Slow Burn
by ElaineRadley
Summary: A chance encounter with a strangely familiar beautiful woman has Cal trying to figure out exactly who and what he wants...if he can survive. And I STILL don't own any part of Lie to Me, BTW. Epilogue now up!
1. Chapter 1

"Hey handsome."

He didn't acknowledge, choosing instead to stare down into his drink. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw movement as she proceeded to sit down next to him, despite his frosty reception.

"Just here for the night. It would be nice to have some company before I ship out." She swiveled on the barstool and her knee brushed his thigh. "I guess 'ship out' isn't exactly the appropriate description. 'Fly out' probably works better."

Cal gave a grunt.

"I'm a flight attendant."

He wasn't really sure why this woman was setting her sights on him. He'd stopped on the way home after a completely fucked day. He and Foster had been at one another's throats and he knew why. There wasn't a whole lot of ambiguity in his actions. He'd goaded, pushed, tested, contradicted, bullied, even belittled and she'd had had enough. She popped off and fought back, viciously in fact. Normally it was satisfying to get a rise out of her. This time the victory felt hollow. Maybe he was just tired… or maybe the slow burn was just coming to a head.

"Barbara Crandon." She held out a hand to him.

With a sigh, he turned to tell her to move on but the words got stuck. Big blue eyes stared back at him, framed by chestnut colored hair. Cal found himself taking her hand as his eyes roamed the beautiful face in stunned surprise. "Cal Lightman."

"Nice to meet you." Her smile was brilliant and her skin was so soft against his palm. For a moment he thought he saw fear flicker through her eyes but it was so fleeting that he questioned the observation. Several drinks back he wouldn't have.

"So, where ya headin' tomorrow?" Cal's eyes didn't leave the woman's face. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Rio but not until the afternoon fortunately."

"Tough job, yeah?" He tilted his head and gave her a smirk.

"Can be but I guess it also has its perks."

"What are ya drinkin' Barbara?" Swiveling forward, he jerked his head at the bartender. "Mate, lady's thirsty."

The man watched the woman expectantly. He was also openly appreciating her.

"Vodka Stinger."

"You got it." The bartender pivoted to grab two bottles and a glass and mixed it in front of them.

"Thank you." She smiled around her glass before turning to face Cal once again, the other man dismissed.

"So, what do you do Cal?"

Telling her the truth could go one of two ways. She'd either be intrigued or it would scare her off. He opted to lie and pulled a title out of his ass that was guaranteed not to elicit questions. "Business Analyst." He had to fight a yawn just saying it.

"Oh."

Mission accomplished.

"No wonder you're drinking alone on a Friday night." Her voice was teasing and he grinned.

"Not any more darlin'."

* * *

Her tongue was in his ear, while one hand raked his chest with perfectly manicured nails and the other reached around to grab his ass.

Fortunately, because of the late hour, no one else had been waiting in or around the elevator, so they had a private ride all the way up to the 17th floor.

Barbara Crandon's full lips found his and she wasn't shy in the least as she aggressively pushed her tongue past his teeth to explore. He immediately retaliated and could taste the sharp flavor of crème de menthe from her three Stingers. One arm wrapped around her waist to keep her secure, while his right hand found the hem of her skirt and ran up the outside of her thigh.

He kept his eyes closed and concentrated on the sensation of her against him. His imagination sparked as he pictured a different coupling and his body instantly reacted. Physically the resemblance was amazing but it still wasn't _her_. Some part of him knew that he wouldn't have allowed this woman to pick him up if she had looked different. That realization could have been disturbing if all the blood weren't leaving his brain and plummeting south, leaving him slightly lightheaded.

The door binged open and they sidestepped into the hall, still grappling, hands everywhere. Her fingers were then hooked in his waistband and her thumb was stroking none too gently.

"This way." Her voice was sultry and low against his lips as she maneuvered them both left.

He followed awkwardly, his hands seeking her out a lot more intimately and she moaned in response.

Thank God no one was currently around.

Barbara's lips yanked away from his just enough to fumble for her card key before both were close to falling in the door. They managed to make it the few extra steps to the bed before his knees hit the mattress and he dropped backward, taking her with him.

He pulled her face toward his, kissing her deeply, excitedly. _So close_. Not close. Close only counted in horseshoes and hand grenades. _This woman wasn't Gillian. _The excitement ebbed every so slightly._  
_

The thought began to buzz around him even as he attempted to shoo it away. Gillian currently thought of him as one right bastard right now. This woman didn't. She didn't _know_ him well enough. That was a good thing.

Her hand was on his fly as his reached further up her skirt, past the garter, seeking out her epicenter.

The low click and the scuff of a heel against carpet brought them out of their lust filled haze.

Neither one had thought to push the door completely flush. Cal's eyes popped open to see Barbara's head swivel quickly and hear her low gasp. She scrambled off of him to turn to face the figure that had slipped into the room.

"Oh my God!' She took a step back as Cal sat up, his eyes falling to the gun in the man's hand. Frigid cold swept through him.

_Bloody unbelievable. What were the odds?_

The man didn't say a word, leveled the pistol and shot the woman in the forehead. She didn't make a sound as she tumbled backward and neither did the gun. He was using a silencer.

Instinctively Cal threw himself toward the man. The odds of his survival seemed pretty damned low considering the nature of the attack so he figured he had little to lose. With any luck maybe he'd take this guy with him. Or at least give him some bruises and a bloody nose.

Holding tightly to the man's gun hand, he tried to push it down and away when it went off. A lamp next to the bed exploded before the weapon was positioned between them again.

Cal clenched his jaw as he struggled to move the barrel away from him. The other man was bigger and had underestimated him, which wasn't uncommon. But he was quickly rectifying his mistake. The only sound in the room was their labored breathing as they wrestled and Cal wondered how long he could keep it up. He was still a little buzzed and fighting for his life hadn't been on his to do list tonight. Their eyes met and stuck, hazel to black. For a moment Cal's mind slipped as he blinked in surprise _How many people had black irises?_

A slow smile spread across the killer's face. "It's nothing personal." The gun moved up again and it suddenly took on the appearance of a cannon to Cal.

* * *

;-)


	2. Chapter 2

Three thoughts scurried through Cal's brain in rapid succession as his innards pooled with ice. "Emily." "Gillian." And "I'm the biggest fucktard."

In contrast to his insides, the muscles in his arms were burning with strain as he struggled to push the gun away from him. Everything slipped into slow motion, the man's eyes, his grin, his comment of "Nothing personal."

Hell, it _was_ personal. Or at least it got that way really bloody fast.

The finger on the trigger began to squeeze. How he could see that was beyond him. He'd probably be able to see fleas walking a tightrope at 30 yards the way he was feeling. The barrel was pushing painfully into his cheekbone and in his alcohol induced weakness he wasn't able to shove it to his right. Just a few inches would make all the difference. Just a few inches might risk his ear being blown off but at least his face would stay intact.

But Cal couldn't do it and the man's grin widened.

He wanted to call out, scream for someone to call security but his voice seemed caught in some tiny confine just above his diaphragm. It refused to work.

All this because he'd purposely pissed off Gillian. All this because he couldn't tell her the truth.

The breath whooshed out of him and he closed his eyes, wondering if he'd feel anything or if it would be instant darkness and profound nothingness. He wasn't a religious man so he had little hope of anything beyond this. Even if there were something, he'd be taking the wrong turn anyway. He remembered reading that Mark Twain had once said: "Heaven for the temperature, Hell for the company." It had made him smile at the time.

Eternity didn't come though.

Cal opened his eyes to see fury on the man's face.

The gun had jammed.

_I am officially the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet_. The thought flickered past his death nonsense before his instincts kicked in. Taking advantage of the momentarily lapse, he stepped forward and slammed his forehead into the man's nose. The move was standard but effective.

Blood ran down from the man's nose, coating his upper lip and chin. His lips pulled back as he bared his teeth as he used the gun as a club instead. Cal managed to dodge the brunt of it but it still glanced off the side of his head, pulling out hair and ripping his scalp causing him to stagger back.

At that moment, the killer turned in a panic. And it was very obvious to Cal that he was, in fact, panicking. The tough guy visage was gone. He pulled the door open with a gloved hand to swiftly move into the hallway.

But Cal was right behind him, launching himself at the larger man, managing to knock him down to the carpet by sheer momentum. The gun bounced away and clattered off the wainscoting.

At that point Cal finally found his voice. "SOMEONE CALL SECURITY!" He only hoped that he wasn't ignored.

He landed a kidney punch and heard the "oof" but was soon knocked aside with a blow to the temple. Once again the man tried to climb to his feet and run but Cal kicked out and tripped him, his face slamming against someone's door as he went down. Twisting around, the man struck out again, his fist connecting with Cal's cheekbone but it was quickly reciprocated with a hit to the throat and the man started to cough and wheeze.

_Where the hell was bloody security? _Cal's adrenaline spike was quickly depleting and he needed help.

He pulled his fist back and connected with the man's nose again. A spray of blood and a wail of agony escaped the dark eyed man before he fisted both hands together and slammed them into Cal's solar plexus.

The breath and fight went out of him in a whoosh as he rolled to the side, trying desperately to suck in oxygen that currently had nowhere to go. He could only watch helplessly as the woman's killer stumbled to his feet and made a beeline for the stairwell.

_No, no, no…_

At that moment, the cavalry finally arrived. Such as it was. Cal watched the man falter before changing direction. One security guard pursued him while the other went down to his knee next to Cal.

Cal wanted to tell him not to bother but air was only just trickling back in and speech was impossible.

* * *

Detective Brady ran brown eyes over his face and Cal was getting tired of it. They'd managed to catch the woman's killer but still fell compelled to harass him. He was one giant ache and all he wanted was to go home and pass out.

"So, you've never seen this guy before?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." The words were a growl.

"So." The detective looked down at his notes. As if he really needed to. "How did you know Ms. Crandon?"

Cal's insides tightened again. He didn't know her. Not really.

"We'd just met." Cal's voice was low. Shame was wracking him but he wasn't about to let this plonker know that. "At the hotel bar."

"I see." The two words were full of innuendo and Cal didn't respond.

"Did Ms. Crandon know the man?"

"I wouldn't know would I?" His growl came back.

"So there was no familiarity?"

"She got up, said 'Oh my God' and he shot her. I don't know if she knew _him_ but she probably had a clue what it was all about."

They were quiet for several moments.

Finally Brady let out a gust of air. "Alright then. I'm going to let you go for the moment. No leaving town or anything. At least until we get this mess all figured out."

Cal nodded, staring past the other man.

The body was being removed from the hotel room and Cal had an image of a woman that looked way too much like Gillian. One with a bullet in her head. He shut his eyes and hoped he wouldn't throw up.

"You should let the EMTs take a look at you." Brady was looking at him closely again.

"I'm fine."

"You look like crap."

"I'm fine."

The detective shrugged. "Suit yourself but I'll have a car take you home."

"Not necessary."

"Yes it is. Can't have you passing out at the wheel. You could run over some little older lady or someone's pet dog."

Cal glowered for a moment before deciding he was too tired to argue. "Whatever."

* * *

Emily wasn't home. He never thought that he'd feel happy about that particular fact but he was. At least in Chicago with Zoë, she didn't have to see what a fuck up her father was.

The house was way too quiet though. Normally he didn't mind but tonight it seemed ominous. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV for noise. Not much better.

Even though the woman's killer was currently is custody, both Cal and the cops knew that he was just a cog. He had bosses and they had reasons for wanting Barbara Crandon dead. Whatever those reasons were, the hit man wasn't saying. At least not yet.

Very gently, he lowered himself into the corner of the sofa and rested his head back. He wouldn't have thought it possible, but he was asleep almost immediately.


	3. Chapter 3

Gillian curled her feet under her further and took a sip of coffee. Not for the first time, her thoughts drifted to Cal. He always managed to piss her off but for the first time ever, he'd pushed her into completely losing it. She'd always prided herself on being even tempered and the memory from yesterday brought a flush of shame.

Not to say he didn't have it coming. After being a jerk all day, belittling her skills in front of a client had been _it_. She yanked him into her office, shoved him against the wall and told him to go screw himself. Except she hadn't said 'screw.' The shame rushed through once again. What now made it worse was the memory of his expression. At the time she'd bee too angry to even see, let alone acknowledge it. But now, almost 24 hours later, her brain was stuck in a loop. Picturing it. Analyzing it.

Anger. Yes. But it was anger that thinly disguised pain and shame.

She took another sip of coffee.

Friday had almost been her last day at the Lightman Group. The urge to walk out had risen in her with such power that it almost took her breath away. The little thread of loyalty that was quickly fraying hadn't quite broken though. She knew she needed to give it the weekend.

Pain and shame.

Shame at what he had done to her? Maybe. But where was the pain coming from?

Gillian sat up quickly, sloshing a few drops of coffee onto her silk robe but paying no mind. What if it wasn't just emotional pain? What if it was physical? What if he was sick? _Would he even tell her?_

No, he wouldn't.

Her breath stuck and her heart rate accelerated. Nausea rose as she closed her eyes, willing her stomach to settle.

The fear was suffocating. The possibility of losing him placed a huge yawning dark void in front of her. Mentally she tried to step back but it was amazingly hard.

Was he dealing with something even Cal Lightman couldn't fight?

Her stomach gave another painful twist.

Maybe she should call him.

But then again it was unlikely that he'd bother to pick up. Cal was Cal after all. If something really were wrong, he'd continue to push her away.

Making her decision, she placed her mug on the coffee table and rose on slightly shaky legs.

* * *

Cold fear was feeding her panic when she arrived at Cal's place. It had taken a little longer than she'd hoped because naturally, she got stuck at every single light. The delay had just allowed her anxiety level to rise even more.

His car wasn't in the driveway.

Odd. At 8:30 in on a Saturday morning it didn't seem likely he'd be out. _Unless he never came home._

Now _there_ was another thought that she didn't quite know what to do with. She chose to push that one aside.

His car was probably in the garage. Duh. Emily took the Prius to Zoë's place before they headed to Chicago. That was it.

Gillian guided her car into the driveway, cut the ignition and stared toward the entry.

He could still be sleeping.

_What the hell was she doing_? Why all the nerves?

Because she was afraid of what he _might_ tell her.

Taking a deep breath, she climbed out of the car and followed the path to his front door.

* * *

Cal opened his eyes to the buzzing at the door and uttered a low oath. In his 3 ½ hours of sleep he hadn't moved, so in addition to the hangover and the beating he had taken, he now had a stiff neck as well. _Fuck my life._ For the briefest of moments he wished that the black-eyed man had succeeded in killing him.

The door buzzed again.

"Bloody Hell." With a grimace, he pushed himself up and staggered to the entry, intent on ripping someone a new one. It was imperative at that very moment that he take out all his tightly woven emotions out on someone. Hopefully it wouldn't turn out to be the Girl Scouts or someone collecting for UNICEF.

It was neither but damned close.

Gillian was looking at him in horror. He supposed he somehow looked worse than he felt. It was hard to imagine.

An unbidden image of another blue-eyed woman punctuated with a bullet hole flashed through his brain. He shut his eyes and clutched the door a little more tightly. "What are you doin' her Foster?"

"You look like you've been hit by a truck!" It came out in a gasp.

Her tone was all concern and it made him feel even worse. He opened his eyes to see worry and fear all over her face.

The fear was a bit of a surprise to him. He wondered why she was afraid. He'd gotten into fights before and she'd always been annoyed and/or concerned but never fearful. What he said though was: "I fell."

Now there was her anger again. _That was better_.

"I came over here because I was worried about you." She pushed past him as he frowned. Whatever it was, she wasn't about to deliver it on his front stoop. Stopping in the middle of the living room, she whirled around to face him. "You've been insufferable lately. More than usual. You criticized me in front of a client today…"

"To which you told me to go 'fuck myself.'"

Gillian ignored him. "You've obviously been in a fight. You want to tell me what the hell's going on?"

Cal still hung by the door before giving it a shove and letting the slam reverberate through his home. "What difference does it make?" His voice was low and acid-laced but his heart was thrumming painfully. He couldn't stand her being so damned close. He just wanted her to go.

"Are you serious?" Gillian was incredulous and was really starting to wonder why she'd even bothered but the nagging fear at the back of her mind wouldn't let go. "You don't think your behavior affects us? Affects our business?"

He moved past her, careful not to make any contact, and lowered himself into the corner of his couch once again. The TV still blared nonsensically but he paid it no mind. He stared up at her from behind hooded eyes.

"So, what? Is this the silent treatment Cal?" She watched him closely, once again seeing pain before he quickly shoved it behind his mask. But it made her hesitate. It had been fleeting but intense and any budding anger dissipated once again.

He looked wary when she moved closer and tensed when she sat next to him.

"I need to understand what's happening here."

Her voice was gentle and he inwardly cursed. He didn't deserve her compassion.

"_Go home Gill_."

"No."

He scowled and stared straight ahead.

"Let me put it this way Cal." She attempted to keep her face and voice impassive before pulling out her trump card. "I don't want it to come to this but I can't continue do this. With all your head games, manipulation and abuse, I'm almost ready to move on. But I know there's something else going on because I know _you_…"

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think."

Her frown returned. His voice had taken on a resigned quality. "I know you well enough Cal." Her hand fell to his arm and once again he tensed. She moved her hand away, feeling the sting.

He didn't respond, his eyes now wide and glued to the TV.

Frowning, Gillian watched him pale before turning to see what held his attention.

The photo of a woman with a face eerily similar to her own took up the whole screen. A deep chill swept through her even as she became aware that the reporter's voice could dimly be heard over Cal's suddenly harsh breathing. "_Barbara Crandon, flight attendant, was found murdered in her hotel room early this morning…"_

* * *

_**Hmmm...somehow this isn't coming together as well as I would have hoped. Guess we'll see how it goes.**  
_


	4. Chapter 4

Cal couldn't hear anything over the sound of his breathing and the thundering of his heart.

_Stop. You need to calm down._

He pulled in a deep breath and schooled his features into a neutral mask, although it did nothing to quell the storm inside.

Glancing at Gillian, he could easily see the shock all over her face. Not too surprising. Not everyday that you see your doppelganger all over the news. Especially when the look alike had been viciously gunned down.

Cal managed to focus on the report, hoping that he wouldn't hear his name mentioned. The cops were naturally keeping everything close to their chest but hotels are busy places with eyes and ears everywhere. By the time he'd been able to leave it had been just after five, right around when the kitchen and housekeeping staff were starting to arrive. Something could have leaked.

All he heard was that an unnamed guest and hotel security had managed to apprehend the suspect and details were still pending. It was, no doubt, a PR nightmare for the hotel.

He'd planned on getting some sleep before contacting Brady. If possible he wanted to have a go at the black-eyed man. Cal was starting to feel that persistent painful itch when he felt compelled to know something. And he felt compelled to know why Barbara Crandon was killed. He felt compelled to do _something_.

"Cal, she looks just like me." Gillian's voice was shaking slightly

"Marginally." He made it sound dismissive. _Pull her attention away_. _Play it down_. "You were intimating that you were dissolving our partnership because I've been a right bastard lately."

That did it. Her eyes were back on him. Her face still held a thread of unease though.

Feeling the need to offer her trace comfort, rational thought slipped away and his hand found her shoulder, gently stroking. This wasn't her fault. None of it. His guilt was palpable and she frowned once again.

"I don't understand you."

"Get in line luv."

She shifted slightly and Cal wondered when she'd gotten so close to him. He could practically feel her body heat. She'd always been a touchy feely person. She was close because she cared and was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. _That was the only reason_.

He almost brought his hand from her shoulder to touch her face. The skin looked so soft and his fingers longed to caress her cheek. He needed to smooth this over, needed to assure her he was okay. If he'd been honest and not continued to act like a 12-year-old, last night would never have happened. Or at least he wouldn't have been involved in it.

But it had. If Gillian found out, no amount of fancy footwork would change the obvious implications. He wanted her and that fact would smack her right across the face. Worst case scenario, she'd simply be gone. That would be it. Best case scenario would have her disgusted and creeped out. _He_ was disgusted and creeped out by his actions. He still remembered closing his eyes and imagining it was Gillian in his arms and not Barbara Crandon. It was also too easy too easy to imagine Gillian with the bullet hole instead and the agony that rose in him was paralyzing. With difficulty, he pushed the image away.

Gillian continued to stare at him. There was so much was going on behind his eyes that she'd never be privy to. She sometimes wished she were psychic. His hand continued to rub her shoulder and she didn't think he was even aware of it. An involuntary shudder ran through her.

And then there it was again. The flicker of pain. Except it was more than a flicker this time. The power of it made her eyes widen. But there was no way to know where it was coming from unless he was actually honest with her. She wondered what the odds were.

Gillian steeled herself and took advantage of this slightly less guarded moment. "I came here because I was worried about something."

He was quiet, his eyes still on her but she watched with disappointment as they turned into mirrors.

"Are you…okay? I mean, physically?" She shifted to face him head on. "With all this erratic behavior…and other things…I was just worried that…" Stopping, she couldn't continue and her eyes dropped.

_Shit._ Acting like the supreme jackass of the universe had led her to another conclusion. Those thoughts were devastating for her and her obvious pain was a shard in his chest.

He sighed, his body sagging ever so slightly. The one hand moved a little closer to the crook of her neck as if it had a mind of its own. His thumb lightly stroked the side of her throat. Realizing was he was doing, he moved it away quickly, as if burned. His voice gentled though. "I'm okay Gill."

She caught his hand on the descent and he fought the urge to pull it away. Her palm was so soft. She was close enough that her fragrance filled his nostrils, but he stayed still. Gillian scrutinized him carefully and he allowed it.

"Okay." She released his hand. "You're being a complete prick for some other reason." Relief was heavy in the words even as they insulted him.

A tiny smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth but his voice was soft. "Guess so."

"You won't tell me though."

The smirk fell away making him feel strangely naked. Her eyes bore into his, asking for his secret but not realizing she probably didn't want to hear it.

Because of his actions, it was very likely he was going to lose her either way. Maybe he should be completely honest with her for the first time…ever. Did it really matter at this point? In his mind's eye, he pulled her to him and swore to never let her go. Of course the vision also included her asking him what the hell he thought he was doing and giving him a shove.

"Cal?" Her hand reached out and smoothed down his upper arm.

He needed to say _something._ He was so very tired of the charade.

Of course right now he was just plain tired too and wasn't thinking very clearly. Everything hurt and having her sit on his couch inches away from him made him hurt on yet another level.

"I'm sorry Gill but I can't…do this right now."

Gillian startled at his tone. It held a pleading quality that she didn't remember ever hearing before.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd just go home. As far as the group is concerned, you need to do what you think is right for you." His eyes moved away, dismissing her, the tone turning hopeless.

She had the sincere desire to give him a shake. She wanted to old Cal back.

Hesitantly, she got to her feet and gazed down at him. He had a purplish bruise next to his left eye, a cut over his brow and dried blood matted in the hair above his ear. She vaguely wondered what the other guy looked like. Mostly though, she just saw sadness and her heart broke just a tiny bit. But there really wasn't much more she could do.

"Are you really trying to push me out of the business?"

No answer.

"How about out of your life?" Her voice started to shake as she attempted to keep her tears at bay.

Cal winced as if she'd slapped him but once again said nothing.

"Okay." She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. "If you change your mind and decide you need anything, you know how to get a hold of me." Her words were clipped and the tears had broken free.

She turned to go.


	5. Chapter 5

The black-eyed man wondered at what point he was going to die. Although he hadn't said a word to the police, it had been more out of professional courtesy than any actual hope of saving his life.

He'd killed the woman but hadn't had to chance to search her. Her companion had gotten in the way. He had watched while she picked the guy up at the bar and had followed them upstairs. He just hadn't expected as much of a fight as he got. That kind of mistake was unacceptable…and unforgivable.

Anger surged up within him but oddly enough he wasn't angry with the other man, who'd only reacted how any reasonable man would react. He was angry at fate. If the gun hadn't jammed he wouldn't be sitting here awaiting his imminent death, he'd be on a plane to South America.

The cops didn't know who he was, but it didn't really matter. He wasn't anyone, no record, no existence, no fingerprints. He was a shadow who'd been groomed to be a shadow from the time he was a teenager. And they were pissed off because of it.

He'd be transferred soon for his arraignment and that's when they'd no doubt get to him. He hoped it would be fast and clean. He hated messy.

They were now, no doubt, looking for the Englishman. Maybe they'd even already found him. He almost hoped not and wished the guy luck.

* * *

Cal watched as she turned and walked away. Her head was up but her shoulders shook ever so slightly. He knew she was crying.

_No. He couldn't continue to do this._ He couldn't let her go like this.

Rising to his feet with a grimace, he cleared his throat. "Gillian."

Half expecting her to ignore him, he was surprised when she actually stopped. "Was there something else?" The words were a little stilted and she seemed to hesitate before turning to face him. Her eyes were red. "Hard to imagine. You seem to be done with anything that connects the two of us."

He approached her carefully, stopped a few feet away and opened his mouth. He planned on possibly saying something like "_I'm sorry. Forgive me_" or "_I've been behaving like a_ _prick because I have all these feelings for you and I'm not sure what to do with them_" or "_I don't want to have that bloody stupid line between us anymore_." Probably it would have been the last one but what came out was absolutely nothing. Cal swiftly moved forward, grabbing her by the upper arms and pulling her away from the entry.

"What are you…?" The startled words began to tumble from her mouth but he cut them off by placing his hand over her lips and giving a headshake. Her eyes widened in response.

Someone was trying to let himself in the front door and Cal instinctively knew it couldn't be a coincidence. Heart pounding, he guided Gillian toward his study, all the while straining his ears to listen. Only the bottom lock had been latched and it wouldn't take long to pop it. Even less time for a professional.

Sliding the door shut behind them, he locked it and crossed to his safe. He had it open in moments and pulled out his Beretta. He checked the clip before slamming it home. For good measure, he grabbed a box of rounds and shoved it in his jacket pocket.

They both heard the front door before two sets of footsteps resounded against the hardwood floor. One seemed heavier than the other as they split up.

_Shit, shit, shit_. He could call 911 but it would be too late. If these two were anything like the black-eyed man, his fate would be swift and final. _Their_ fate. Poor Gillian. No wonder he'd wanted to push her away. He kept trouble on a very short leash and here he was, pulling her along for the ride once again.

There was no time to debate this. _They had to get out._

Cal yanked at the window lock, his fingers slipping as sweat coated his skin. It finally released and he pushed it open, happy that the hum of the computer disguised the sound. He caught Gillian's eye and jerked his head before popping out the screen.

Without a word, she did as he implored and climbed out first. Her face was pale but set, keeping the panic at bay. He was proud of her.

He followed as the sliding door popped open. Pushing her toward the car, Cal turned quickly and leveled his pistol and pulled the trigger. He didn't hit the man but he was close enough to splinter the doorjamb, causing the intruder to jump back.

Gillian had made the short trek to her car and Cal heard the engine turn over, thankful that if one of them got away, it would be her.

He turned and jogged toward the Volvo as another man appeared in his front door. Without thought, Cal leveled off another shot, satisfied to see the other man stumble back. Maybe he'd even actually nailed the bastard.

Pulling the car door open, he threw himself in but not before feeling the sting. He grunted but Gillian was already throwing the car into reverse before slamming it into drive and peeling out of there.

Cal threw a glance over his shoulder in time to see one of them running into the street and jumping into a late model SUV. Only one. Maybe he did actually get the other one. It somehow made him feel a little better but not much.

"Random turns Gill."

She didn't respond but followed his instructions, face tight, eyes wide but she in complete control.

_Maybe she was just getting used to the downside of hanging out with him_. The thought was depressing so he pushed it away.

"Get on the freeway, bail off, turn back around."

He guided her with nonsensical directions and it was soon apparent they'd lost their pursuer. Gillian finally found her voice. It was stronger than she would have suspected it would be. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Cal had closed his eyes but quickly popped them open again. He licked dry lips. "Guess I owe you that much, yeah?"

"You could say that. Police now?"

Obviously someone thought that he had some kind of connection with Barbara Crandon. Thought she'd told him something or had given him something or… he had no clue. But how had they found him so quickly? His name hadn't been leaked to the media. If it had, they would hardly have sat on it. It would have been all over the place. Someone in the police department? Wouldn't be the first dirty cops that he'd had to deal with.

"Cal?" Her head swiveled his way quickly before returning her eyes forward.

He was so fucking tired. He needed a couple hours of sleep and time to think. "No, no police."

"Are you _serious_?" Gillian chanced another look at him and was surprised by his deadly serious look, but there was something else there too. He seemed a tiny bit pale.

"Yes."

"Should we go back to my place?" Even as she asked, she knew the answer. Her heart was hammering so hard she was certain it might burst from her chest any moment now.

"No. Um…" He clenched his jaw and tilted his head back. "Head north. Find a Travel Lodge or somethin'." Then he'd see about pulling in some favors, see if he could find out what kind of company Barbara Crandon usually kept. If his street contacts came up empty, he'd probably have to contact Reynolds. He was the only one wrapped in bureaucracy whom he trusted.

They rode in silence for miles while the city slowly disappeared around them, replaced by rolling hills and greenery. She wasn't sure how far he wanted her to go but with the adrenaline currently pumping through her veins, she might consider the other side of the country. "Cal?"

He didn't respond and she shot him a glance to find his eyes closed. "Cal?"

"Huh?" He turned his head and cracked his eyes open.

"Are you okay?" Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

"Just tired luv."

"How far do you want me to go?"

He blinked for a moment, feeling a little bit fuzzy. How far _should_ they go? _What if _they'd_ copied down Gillian's plates? _A dirty cop would easily be able to help track them down that way. If that were the case, they couldn't go far enough. Of course he could be just getting paranoid too. But then again, that was apt to happen when several people tried to kill you within a 12-hour period.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Cal's head was starting to ache once again.

_Okay, it was time to get a different car and he thought he knew where he could do just that. It would better than just switching out the plates._

"Head into Baltimore?"

"Why Baltimore?" She frowned at him, wishing he'd be less enigmatic. "Could you tell me a little bit about what's going on already? I think I'm being remarkably calm, considering everything, don't you?"

"Just…please Gillian."

His tone beseeched her and after a long pause, she gave a tiny nod.


	6. Chapter 6

Gillian was sure to follow Cal's directions, sometimes straining to hear his quiet voice but managing not to miss anything. He took them off the freeway in a questionable part of the city but he seemed to know exactly where he was guiding her so she didn't question.

She threw several looks his way but he didn't return them, choosing to gaze through the windshield from under hooded eyes. He still seemed pale to her and a thin sheen of sweat had broken against his forehead.

"Here." He nodded to her left. "Coming up. Brick building."

Making the turn, she guided the Volvo into the driveway. The building formed an "L" shape. Directly ahead were several car bays, of which only two were open. To their right, under a slightly weathered sign reading "Whitaker Brothers Auto Repair" was the door to the office, flanked by two dusty paned windows.

Cutting the engine a few yards away, Gillian shot a glance at Cal.

He finally met her gaze. "We're gonna see about switching out cars. A guy here might be able to help us."

"_What_?" She stared hard at him, the implications of what was going on around her strumming her tightly wound nerves.

"Look Gill, I'll tell you everything…what I know at least." He closed his eyes for a moment and clenched his jaw.

"Cal?"

"Yeah, um, promise luv. Just hang in a little longer." His eyes were open again as he faced her, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I'll make sure nothin' happens to your car."

"Alright." The word came out slowly. She was thoroughly spooked but her voice remained even.

_That's my girl._ His smirk moved up to a tired smile before he fumbled for the handle to pull himself up and out. Slamming the door, he headed for the office.

Gillian shifted to release her seatbelt before her eyes fell briefly to the passenger seat. Frowning, she squinted at the upholstery. There were several maroon smudges at the edge of the leather seat near the window and also on the door panel.

_Son of a bitch!_

Worry, fear and anger welled up inside as she threw herself out of the car to follow him. _Just like him to hide something like this_. He knew she would have just turned around and taken him to the hospital, despite anything he may have said.

Cal had already gone inside and when she forcefully yanked the door open, he didn't even look over his shoulder. He was in deep conversation with the man behind the counter. Their voices were hushed.

The man looked up, green eyes brightening. "This your lady Cal?"

He finally glanced back at her, reading her expression and wincing. "My colleague…but don't even think about it."

"Gottcha." He smiled at her for just a moment before sobering. "Okay, man, I have one you can use. It'll be almost invisible. I'll lock the other one away until I get a heads up."

"Thanks."

"Knew eventually you'd come knocking but I thought it would be a bigger deal."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

The man gave a low chuckle. "I'm just considering myself lucky." He stared a Cal for a moment before startling. "Hold on, let me grab the kit for you. It was just restocked. Even has a few bonuses in there." He slipped through the interoffice door as Gillian stepped near Cal.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Her voice was a low hiss but he could easily hear the concern.

"Trying to save our arses."

"But you're hurt!"

"I'm okay."

"There's blood in my car Cal!" She grabbed at his arm and he grunted in pain. The dark sleeve of his jacket was wet and she immediately let go, eyes wide.

His eyes met hers and held steady. "Just a scratch, okay? I'll clean it up when we get to the motel."

_A scratch? From what? _

The man came back with a cardboard box and dumped it on the counter. Twisting, he grabbed a set of keys off the hanger against the wall and pushed them toward Cal. "Here man, 4th bay. Good luck and let me know when things die down."

"Thanks Dennis." He turned to Gillian. "Keys?"

Reluctantly, she handed them over and the man grinned again. "No worries. I'll take good care of it."

Somehow she didn't feel any better.

* * *

They headed north several miles out of the city before Gillian exited the freeway, choosing a Best Western with an adjoining coffee shop. Her stomach was starting to realize that she hadn't had anything but coffee and that was very early this morning.

Cal hadn't said a word since leaving Whitaker Brothers Auto Repair and appeared to be dozing. He was trusting she wouldn't do anything against his wishes. _Damn him._ _Just a scratch._ He was pale and sweating so it seemed to be more than that. Her stomach clenched painfully at the thought. She should have just gone ahead and found a doctor for him but after what had happened, she wasn't sure about anything.

His eyes were open immediately when the engine of the Camry cut off and they landed on her. "S'alright, luv?"

"Um, no, but I found a place to stay for the time being."

Blinking, he looked around for a moment before squinting at the front office. There was a young woman moving purposefully behind the counter. "Let me go check in." Grimacing, he began to twist to let himself out.

"Why don't I do it?"

"'Cause I want to pay cash."

"What does that have to…"She trailed off when he raised one eyebrow. Cal didn't want to leave a paper trail so he had every intention of charming his way out of it.

She let out a soft sigh.

"Be back in minute." He shut the door with a low clunk and headed for the office. She noticed one hand in his pocket while he held his arm straight down, almost stiffly. Once again, fear and worry started to gnaw at her.

Gillian watched as he smiled his lazy smile and flirted with the desk girl. Not able to stand it for too long, she pulled her gaze away and stared off toward the pool. It was early October so it was completely deserted. From what she could see, red and gold leaves had already found their home floating on the surface or becoming water logged and sinking to the bottom. She dimly wondered if this little adventure would have them sinking or swimming.

He returned moments later and slipped back in the car next to her. The lazy, flirting grin was gone and his eyes were slightly glassy. "Round back luv. 118."

* * *

Gillian had carried the box inside for him. Dennis had not only stuck the first aid kit in there, but a bottle of Jack Daniels and a wad of cash as well. It was sometimes good to call in favors.

Having locked the bathroom door behind him, he was now having some problems. He'd been able to shrug out of his coat and thrown it on the back of the chair by the window but after awkwardly unbuttoning his shirt with his left hand, he'd gone to pull it off but the fabric was stuck to the wound on his right bicep. Cal counted silently to ten before pulling it off with a low gasp. _Shit, that hurt._

Taking a breath, he inspected the wound, noting bits of fabric imbedded. It was probably a half-inch deep and three inch long crease through the muscle and he fully expected to take advantage of the antibiotics that Dennis had slipped into the kit. Possibly the Demerol too but that remained to be seen. He wanted to keep a clear head. One thing he did know was that he wouldn't be able to do an adequate job of cleaning it on his own.

_Shit._ Cal didn't want to ask but he didn't want it to get infected either.

Turning, he unlocked the door and stepped out into the room. It was a double fortunately, with two beds. Not that it wasn't awkward but it could have been a lot worse.

Gillian had removed her sneakers and was stretched out on her bed, staring at the TV but probably not seeing it. He knew how she felt.

She looked up when he appeared.

"Um…sorry luv, but I could use…uh…"

"You need a hand Cal?" She sat up quickly, concerned once again at his pallid complexion.

"Yeah." The admission was a little strangled.

Gillian was on her feet and instantly next to him in the tiny bathroom. She'd never seen him without a shirt and couldn't help when her eyes swept his chest. It was lean and hairless. Biting her lip, her eyes fell to his arm and cringed. Dried blood coated his bicep and a narrow but deep furrow across the outside of the muscle. _He had been shot._ It had only grazed him thank God, but it still looked pretty horrible.

"I don't remember hearing anything. _When did this happen_?" She looked up into his eyes.

"They had silencers. At the house."

_Oh my God. What did he get himself into? And what did he, by default, get me into?_

Turning her face neutral, she gave him a gentle push toward the toilet seat. Not that he had far to go in the tiny bathroom. "Sit."

He sat.

Very gently, she inspected the wound, seeing threads from his shirt, and both dried and fresh blood. It still seemed to be leaking. Peeking through the first aid kit, she pulled out a small bottle of peroxide and cotton balls and proceeded to clean the wound.

Cal hissed in pain but was soon clenching his jaw and attempting to take it in stride. Moments later, she took tweezers, ran them under hot water before also splashing them with peroxide and went about removing the tiny bits of fabric that she hadn't been able to flush away. He held tightly to the edge of the counter and bathtub as she worked, paling even more in the process.

"Okay Cal?"

His eyes were squeezed shut. "Yeah."

Cringing at his discomfort, she managed to remove what she could see, gave it another flush before coating it with ointment, placing a large square bandage and wrapping gauze around the limb.

His eyes were still shut when she gently touched his shoulder. "Done."

"Thanks darlin'." He got to his feet a little too quickly and swayed, feeling her grab onto him, one hand still on his shoulder, the other grasping his forearm.

They stood together for several moments, her hands on his bare flesh, until he finally took a step back. "I think I'm alright." He was shaking slightly and wasn't sure if it was the wound or her proximity.

There were several calls he needed to make and he couldn't be thinking about the softness of her skin against his. He needed to focus and try to figure out how to get them the hell out of this mess.

Grabbing both the Cefadroxil and Demerol from the kit, he stepped past her and out of the bathroom.


	7. Chapter 7

Gillian watched as he moved away from her. Although a little unsteady he kept his feet under him and carefully sat down at the edge of the first bed and reached for the phone in the pocket of his jacket as it hung on the chair. He 'd pulled out the Beretta earlier and it lay ominously on the table within easy reach.

She didn't care for guns but the fact that he knew what he was doing brought some semblance of comfort. There _wasn't _a lot of comfort to be had in this situation so she took what she could.

He'd promised that he'd fill her in but that still remained to be seen. She couldn't help but be a little skeptical.

Cal's left hand clutched the phone as he debated. There were several people he could contact to put their noses to the ground for him but he was having a difficult time concentrating. Dropping the phone onto the mattress, he reached for the two bottles next to the gun, awkwardly opening one and dry swallowing a dose of antibiotics, hesitated when it came to the painkillers but deciding to take a couple anyway. His arm was throbbing painfully and it was hard to think beyond it. He figured he had a good half hour to make some calls before they kicked in.

Gillian hovered awkwardly in the middle of the room before finally clearing her throat. "Cal."

"Huh?" He'd just swallowed some medication and was now staring at his phone lost in thought.

"I'm going to bring something in from the café. What do you want?" Her stomach was starting to give her holy hell.

"Nothin'. I'm good."

"When did you eat last?"

His face tightened and she knew he was annoyed. She gave a sigh. "I'll bring you back something and you'd better eat it."

"I'm okay."

"Cal, you're not okay. I'm apparently stuck in this situation with you, whatever the hell this situation is, so you need to keep up your strength. If not for your sake, then for mine." She stared at him firmly, gaze flickering to his wound..

He almost meekly met her eyes before retreating. "Fine. Just need to make some calls first."  
"By that time I'll be back."

That got his attention. The meekness slipped away. "No, let's get them to deliver."

"That's ridiculous. They're just right here."

He stared at her, panic simmering just below the surface. Maybe he was being ridiculous but he still had the image of the dead woman burned in his memory and he couldn't get rid of it. "Humor me?"

Gillian met his eyes, seeing desperation and panic before she finally conceded and started to sift through the brochures on the bureau looking for a menu. She tried not to listen to Cal's voice as he made a call, speaking fast and low. It would be amazing if they understood him on the other end. One thing she did hear that gave her pause was a name. Barbara Crandon. _Why did that sound familiar? _

Frowning, she found what she was looking for but kept shooting glances his way. He'd ended the first call and proceeded to make the next contact. Once again, voice low and rushed.

Gillian browsed the menu and made a couple of executive decisions before reaching for her own phone and placing the order.

_Barbara Crandon._

After receiving confirmation of a 15-minute wait, she dropped her phone back in her purse, brows knit as she searched her recent memory.

_ Wait a minute._ _Wasn't that the woman on the news?_ The one that had looked eerily like her? And it was a resemblance that Cal had downplayed in the living room of his home. Tendrils of dread curled in her belly. Cal was somehow connected to the murder.

_Oh my God. How could this be happening?_

Wandering mutely to the bed closest to the bathroom, she sat up against the headboard and pulled her knees to her chest. Some inane talk show droned on in front of her eyes but she didn't see it.

He was somehow involved in the death of a woman that looked almost exactly like her.

In the background, she heard Cal raise his voice every so slightly, anger and frustration lending venom to his words. "You'd better bloody well make the time! Your arse would be wearing fashionable orange if it hadn't been for me!" His tone lowered again, the words melding with a rushed urgency.

There was a sudden knock and he looked up wide-eyed, phone still gripped in his hand. She could see the whitening of the knuckles.

"Food Cal." Gillian offered in explanation as she got back to her feet and pulled cash from her wallet.

"Hold up." Cal spoke into the phone before placing it on the table and grabbing his pistol. He was up and crossing to the door while Gillian watched, alarmed. She knew he was just being cautious but the unreality of the situation still weighed heavily on her.

He peeked through the curtain and although his body language didn't denote relaxation, there seemed to be a bit of resignation. "Okay."

A frumpy middle-aged woman stood on the other side, bags in hand and he inwardly berated himself. Hardly a highly paid assassin. All this paranoia was going to kill him.

Gillian stared at him for a moment before moving past and retrieving their food.

Cal slowly sat back on the bed and retrieved his phone. The connection hadn't been broken, his contact having been oddly patient. Probably just ruminating orange jumpsuits. "Get back to me ASAP if you hear anything."

There was a warbled response and he hit end before staring listlessly at nothing in particular. The Demerol was kicking in and found himself a little lightheaded but the plus side was that the throbbing in his arm was starting to subside a little.

"Cal. Here." Gill shoved a sandwich into his hands. "Eat. Now."

Her fear was currently being swallowed by anger. That was probably a good thing. She'd no doubt heard fragments of his conversations and would soon be grilling him for answers, which should have scared the hell out of him but he was currently too tired to care.

Cal could feel her eyes on him as they ate in silence. Maybe he'd be up for the confrontation _after_ he managed to get a little sleep. _Who was he kidding?_ He'd never be up for the confrontation.

Dumping the uneaten half of his sandwich in the sack, he sunk back onto the bed and stretched out on his back. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw his uninjured arm over them in an attempt to block out the images, dimly wondering if he'd sleep at all.

He was out in minutes.

Slowly clearing away the mess, Gillian kept an eye on Cal. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest before shifting her gaze to the bandage around his right bicep. If that bullet had struck him almost anywhere else, it was probable they wouldn't be here right now. He could be dead. A frigid wave doused her and she grabbed hold of the edge of the table. The sense of unreality was slowly washing away.

_Oh Cal, what have you done?_

_**Just a bit of a transition chapter. Hopefully it wasn't overly boring.**_


	8. Chapter 8

He opened his eyes to darkness, confusion and mud in his head.

_What the hell?_

No, not complete darkness.

One lamp burned to his left and he turned, blinking to see Gillian sitting cross-legged on the bed with a book in her lap. She always had a book in her purse for boredom purposes and emergencies get-a-ways.

Cal was amazed that she could actually concentrate but as he watched he realized that she hadn't turned the page in a while. She wasn't a slow reader by any stretch of the imagination either. Her mouth tightened and she let out a little sigh. So much going on there. And it was all his damned fault.

Gill had actually pulled the bedspread over him and removed his boots. At least he thought so. He didn't remember doing it himself. Trying to take care of him despite the things that he does. Familiar warmth spread through his chest, which made the pain of his choices bite a little bit harder.

She wasn't aware of his scrutiny and he felt a little guilty watching her but it didn't stop him. Finally he cleared his throat and she glanced over quickly, stretching and arching her back in a cat-like manner. His eyes dropped inappropriately before he hauled them back up with some effort. Even tired and mussed, she was gorgeous. He inwardly berated himself.

"How are you feeling?" She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and leaned forward. If she noticed him looking at her chest, she gave no indication.

Pushing himself up, he grimaced slightly. "Uh, foggy. What time is it?"

"Almost eight."

Almost…_eight_? Crap. He'd slept for close to five hours. No wonder he was all foggy. He dropped his feet to the floor and twisted to make a grab for his phone.

No messages. He would have expected _something_ at least. He was probably just being impatient. _Big surprise there_.

"Do you think you're ready to talk now?" Her voice wasn't tentative in the least. If anything it seemed a little hollow and he felt a pang.

Cal didn't move to face her.

The box that Dennis had given him was on the table next to the gun. The bottle of Jack Daniel's beckoned but he ignored it. "Not really."

She paused for a moment. "How about this? _Will_ you talk to me?"

_Jesus._ He didn't even know how to start.

"Wasn't Barbara Crandon the woman on the news ?" Her tone wasn't questioning, only verifying.

He heard her get up and approach even as he hung his head and stared at his socks. His arm was starting to burn and throb again but he attempted to concentrate on other parts of his body that didn't hurt. It was a short list.

"Yes."

The bed dipped as she sat next to him. "How did you know her?"

Gillian watched his face despite his apparent inability to look at her. His shame was so intense that it was startling. She waited, half expecting him not to answer. To be honest she wasn't even sure if she wanted him to.

They were both quiet listening to sound of the highway a half a block away.

It didn't seem like he was going to respond when he finally did. His voice was low, fatigued but with underlying disgust directed at himself.

"I didn't. Not exactly at least." He allowed a sigh. "After…everythin' on Friday, I stopped at the hotel bar. Kind of on impulse. I wasn't lookin' for anythin' or anyone…"

"You picked her up?" She fought to keep her voice neutral, a little startled to feel a spark of jealousy.

"No, no. I didn't." Cal shook his head, still looking down toward his socks, but possibly perusing the short, nappy carpet instead. "I wanted to tell her to bugger off. Had every intention of doin' it…"

"But?" She leaned forward and tried to grab his eyes with hers but he wasn't having it.

His answer was a lie but he but knew it wouldn't matter. She'd figure it out shortly even if she didn't read it off of him. "Dunno."

Gillian watched him, seeing the lie, continuing to see the shame. The reason behind his choice suddenly reared up and pulled her breath away as she felt her eyes widen. _Barbara Crandon looked like _her.

She had no idea what to say so she said nothing. She listened as he continued in his quiet drawl.

"We headed upstairs. I didn't see anyone follow us but I wasn't lookin' either. Guess I should have been lookin' but I…" He shrugged. "I had a bit to drink. It wasn't like this kind of stuff is the norm, yeah?"

He sounded so incredibly miserable she couldn't help but place a gentle hand on his shoulder despite the awkward feeling settling around her. She concentrated on their friendship and didn't allow other thoughts to currently intrude.

"He pushed in on us and shot her in the head…boom. Just like that." Cal finally looked up but not as her. He was gazing backward toward the woman's death. "We wrestled for the gun and he tried to kill me too but…uh… the gun jammed. He took off then but I followed him and we proceeded to beat the shite outta one another before security finally got there."

Traffic continued to fly by on the highway. Someone leaned on their horn and someone else cruised by the motel, the subwoofer in their car vibrating its surroundings.

"So, the man was arrested?"

"Yes."

Gillian frowned, her fingers unconsciously tightening against him. "Who were those men at you house then?"

He was trying not to pay attention to her cool fingers on his flesh. After his almost admission he fully expected her to be sitting across the room from him, if only because she couldn't currently sit across the state. "Not sure."

"What did the two of you talk about?"

"Nothin'." Cal still didn't look at her. "Absolutely nothin'." They'd been too busy with their tongues down one another's throats. He reddened under a fresh wave of guilt.

She saw it because he couldn't seem to hide anything tonight but she chose to look past it. He was already beating the crap out of himself. Nothing she could say would make a bit of difference. "Did she pass something off to you?"

"No."

"Sure?"

Cal stopped and thought about it. Nothing he was conscious of at least. Without thinking he reached for his coat with his bad arm, faltering as he hissed in pain. "Bloody Hell."

"Hold on. Let me look." Gillian squeezed his shoulder for a moment before leaning forward and pulling the coat off the back of the chair. A quick search of his pockets revealed nothing. She shook her head. "Any other place she could have shoved something?" Her eyes widened in horror and she flushed at the question.

For the first time that night, he managed to look at her with a smirk, amusement all over his face. "Where did you have in mind luv?"

In that very moment they were suddenly comfortable in his office drinking scotch and flirting. It occurred to her how much she missed it before the memory quickly bled away and they were left to current reality once more.

Cal's smirk fell from his face as he contemplated. In the elevator the woman's hands had been _all_ over him. Maybe she'd shoved something into one of his jean pockets. Tentatively he maneuvered to search his pockets, finding it awkward because of limited mobility. Nothing in the front, but his brows pulled down when he found the tiny piece of paper in his back left pocket. It was just a folded over post-it but he was certain it wasn't his.

"What is it?" Gillian leaned closer and he caught a whiff of perfume.

"Um…" He pulled it apart and frowned. "A locker number. Dulles." Cal turned it over. "That's it."

They stared at one another, her face turning fearful and his shifting into determination.

"You're not thinking of…?"

Pushing himself up, he stepped past her. His shirt was still in the bathroom and although it had a hole in it, it was better than nothing. Fortunately most of his shirts were black so the blood wouldn't be obvious…

Gillian was suddenly up close and in his face. "There's no way you're going there tonight."

"Why?"

"_Are you serious?_ You were almost killed last night. You were actually _shot_ this morning. There are people out there looking for you, or at least looking for whatever might be in that locker. And now you want to go out in the wide open because you've got a bug up your ass?"

Cal stared at her, alternately irritated and impressed.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to wait until you hear back from one of your…your criminal friends so you have more of an idea what you're up against? Maybe you don't even have to be the one to go there. Maybe at that point you could call the police…"

"No, no police." He took a half step closer to her, trying to explain but also aware of her fragrance in his nose once again. "My name wasn't leaked to the press but somehow _they_ knew who I was and where I live." One hand reached out to touch her arm.

She took a deep breath, acknowledging that he made sense. "Alright, okay." Her brain had begun to turn a little murky, conscious of how close they were. His almost admission started to bounce around in her head as she struggled to contain it and shove it away.

_He was six inches away, bare-chested _and_ he wanted her_.

The thought was unbidden and sudden. She flushed again and took a step back as he tilted his head to look at her curiously.

Cal blinked, a little confused by the mixed signals crossing her face but choosing not to comment. "You're right. It would be stupid to just rush out right now." He gave a small grin. "Besides, I get the feelin' that you probably wouldn't drive me anyway, yeah? Not currently up to doin' it myself."

Gillian looked at him a little more closely. Sweat was once again coating his brow and blood was beginning to seep through the bandage. Worry nagged at her. He really needed to see a doctor. "I don't suppose one of your 'contacts' would be able to get you some medical attention?"

"I'll be okay Gill. Just need a bit more rest is all."

She nodded, hoping to hell he was right.


	9. Chapter 9

Gillian was not reacting the way he'd anticipated. There was no way she _hadn't_ put it all together so he figured the reason behind it might be one of three: her compassion was currently _overriding_ the impulse to strangle him _or_ she was waiting until all was said and done _before_ strangling him _or_ her feelings for him were on par with his for her. He was a little afraid to hope for that last one, but there was a certain…_softness _when she'd looked at him once or twice tonight that made him wonder. Of course it was possible he'd imagined them too.

Now she was sleeping soundly in the next bed, her breaths quiet and even. He had to squash the urge to curl up next to her. Sure, it would be nice but he risked pushing any progress backward or a possible knee to the groin and he didn't care for either one of those scenarios.

Unable to sleep, Cal stretched out on his own bed, flipping channels on the TV. Part of him wanted to see the news while part was afraid of it.

Were the cops looking for them now too?

If he _had_ killed the one gunman at his house, it seemed very likely. Even more so considering Detective Brady had told him to stick around.

That prospect was exceptionally bad. _Where do you hide if everyone on the planet is looking for you?_ Now _that _was a very paranoid thought.

_Maybe he needed to see what was in the locker after all._

No, he needed to sit tight and wait for information so he could theoretically make some better choices. _Right._

He flipped to CNN and waited. Local news was displayed a few minutes later and there was more than just a little relief to find out nothing was mentioned. Hell, Barbara Crandon wasn't even mentioned. Always a new day, always a new tragedy to cover.

Maybe he hadn't killed the one man. Or maybe, _they_ (whoever _they_ were) didn't want the cops looking for them. If whatever was in that locker found its way into an honest cop's hands, their party might very well be over.

_Too many damned 'maybes.' _

His head was pounding as it was. All the questions were rattling around making it even worse.

Cal sighed and flipped the channel. He landed on an old "Taxi" rerun and left it on for no other reason than all the quiet was steadily adding to his agitation.

Not having any answers continued to gnaw at him as time ticked away.

_Airport._ The impulse reared up again. It was maybe an hour, hour and a half drive at this time.

If he left now, he _might_ be back before Gillian awoke.

She would kill him but the itch was back and pervasive. He had to do _something._

Very carefully he scooted off the bed toward the little table by the window. His arm gave a shriek of displeasure but he tried to ignore it, feeling sweat break out on his face again.

Hell, it was _just_ a flesh wound. Cal bit back a smile as his unpredictable thoughts shifted to Monty Python.

Pain rippled again, sobering but not stopping him.

_Where did she put the keys?_ Her purse no doubt. Cal stared at it dubiously, uncomfortable about digging through it. A woman's purse was private. Right up there with their underwear drawer.

_Screw it._

Cal pulled it off the table to peek inside, hoping he wouldn't have to dump it but more than willing to do so.

Nothing metallic caught his eye. _Damnit._

"Not in there." Her voice was muffled against her pillow and he froze, thinking for just a moment she was talking in her sleep.

No such luck.

"Not going to find them."

"What are you talking about?" Feigning innocence, he slowly looked over his shoulder. "Was hoping to find some aspirin. Have a bloody splitting headache."

_Well, that wasn't a complete lie at least._

Gillian didn't even have her eyes open. "That's crap Cal."

_The woman knew him too damned well_. It was a little unnerving.

"Don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Talking about keys." She rolled over and presented him her back. "You're not going to the airport. Forget it."

They were no doubt in her bloody pocket.

Getting to them would be very…awkward. Not that he wouldn't be willing to try but the truth of the matter was that she could probably kick his ass right now without breaking a sweat.

He stared at her back for a few more minutes, feeling a conflict of irritation and affection.

"Cal, stop glaring at me and go to sleep already."

* * *

When Cal opened his eyes, Gillian was leaning over him with a tiny bit of worry in her eyes. She moved back as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

"Here." She handed him one of the antibiotic capsules, two Tylenols and a plastic cup with water.

"So, you _did_ have some aspirin type thing. Holding out, yeah?" He was teasing as he swallowed the meds and gulped the water. He was so damned thirsty.

She cringed. "Sorry. Figured you just wanted the keys."

"I _did_."

Sighing, the worry didn't abate but there was a rise in annoyance. "You were just going to run out on me?"

"Well, that was kinda the plan, yeah. But I was gonna be back before you woke up." He offered a tiny smile that she didn't return.

Gillian understood his impatience and agitation. He also, no doubt, was feeling pretty helpless and that was even worse for him. But the fact was, he wasn't in any shape to play hero right now. "That would have been a stupid move Cal."

The smile fell away, a flickering of anger on its heels. "Have to do somethin' Gill. Can't just wait around for the other shoe to drop."

"I understand but it won't do either one of us any good if you rush into some unknown situation and get yourself killed and possibly me too."

That shut him up. For a moment. He closed his eyes briefly and gritted his teeth. "If _they_ knew where she hid… whatever it is, they wouldn't have come after me. There's a good chance its still in that locker."

"She was a flight attendant, right? Wouldn't they be watching the airport?"

"Big place, luv. Can't be everywhere at once."

True enough. But all it took was for them to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. They had that kind of luck.

"It won't take long." One hand dropped to her arm as his eyes held hers. "I'll have to break the lock but that won't be an issue."

Of course it wouldn't be an issue. Cal and his criminal tendencies.

His hand was still on her skin. She frowned because it seemed warmer than it should be.

He would need her help. There was no way he could do it without her. But what if they were inadvertently walking into the dragon's layer?

_But how could they just wait around here indefinitely?_ He didn't want to contact the cops, which she understood but they couldn't very well stay on the run forever either. The fact was, the sooner they found a resolution, the better. And the sooner she could get him some medical attention.

"I'll help you."

His brows furrowed in a frown. "Stayin' in the car though."

Gillian shook her head and his frown deepened. "You need a lookout for when you illegally break open that locker."

That was probably true. It wouldn't take long but he didn't need security grabbing him either. He hesitated regardless, terrified that something might happen to her. "I'm not comfortable with that Gill." His hand lightly stroked her arm and he stopped when he realized what he was doing. "I've already kinda ruined your weekend as it is." Once again, he gave the small smile.

This time she returned it with a head shake, trying not to contemplate the rash of gooseflesh that his innocent touch had elicited. "At least you keep my life interesting."

_But not necessarily in a good way_. He didn't voice the thought though.


	10. Chapter 10

He noticed that she kept finding excuses to touch him. On the rational side, he knew that she was just checking to see if he was feverish but the irrational side was enjoying it nonetheless. Hand around his wrist, soft fingers to his face or the brushing of his forehead. He was actually feeling kind of crumby but those gentle touches seemed to make it a little better.

It was so out of line. The shit that they were currently wallowing in had real possibilities of ending badly for them but he couldn't get the feel of her skin out of his head.

Even as they drove, she would occasionally reach out, take his hand, give a quick squeeze and release. It could very well be her compassion too. He knew she was worried about him.

As she guided the car he was able to shoot surreptitious glances at her. He was sure she caught a couple of them but not all. For a man who was anything but subtle he was trying hard to make them go unnoticed. It was a lot of work. Even more so than usual.

His phone went off in the quiet confines of the Toyota, startling him. Checking the ID, he answered brusquely and just listened. He could sense Gillian's tension but she kept her eyes ahead of her.

It was a pretty one-sided conversation. Cal didn't need to respond. Any response was pointless. It ended with his contact wishing him good luck and then he was listening to dead air.

"News?" Gillian chanced a look over at him.

"S'pose." He didn't elaborate as he rolled it around in his head.

Several miles passed before she became impatient. "Cal? What is it?"

"Um…seems our Miss Crandon kept some questionable company." He ran his fingers through his hair before tugging on it lightly. "She's an ex-girlfriend of Tyrone Vincenzo."

Gillian felt her eyes widen. "Isn't he…?"

"Yeah, East Coast mob."

"Oh my God."

"Yeah. Also looks like my would be executioner, I mean the _first_ one…" For some reason he fought an eye roll. To his fuzzy mind the situation seemed to be heading into overkill. "…is dead. Sometime during the transfer, someone stuck a blade between his ribs."

She paled, making her freckles stand out just that much more. "What do we do?"

"Just what we're doin' luv. See what she had on him."

Terror was rippling through her and she fought to keep it contained. She wasn't sure which was worse: having enemy X or a name brand like Vincenzo. He had his fingers in so many different pies from Atlantic City down to Miami but led a charmed existence in all regards. He was a modern day untouchable.

Neither said a word as Gillian took the off ramp toward the airport.

* * *

Lockers were in the baggage area in an alcove by the restrooms.

And the tire iron was up his sleeve.

Gillian ghosted behind him as he walked with purpose. She could see the coiled tension within him, ready to fight if need be, whether he'd win or not. He was what Gillian's grandmother would have referred to as a 'scrapper.' The incongruous thought made her smile but it was more of a nervous smile than anything else. She was utterly scared to death.

They wandered through the banks of lockers before the right one caught her eye. "Cal. There." Her voice was low as she tossed her head toward it.

He grunted an acknowledgement as he turned to face her. "Give me 30 seconds, 'kay?"

She wasn't okay about it but the sooner he was done the sooner they could get the hell out of there. Moving toward the entrance, she leaned against the wall and pretended to wait for someone by absently tapping her foot and glancing frequently at her watch.

_Come on Cal._

It seemed to take longer than 30 seconds or maybe her perception of time had just slowed down.

A couple of people were heading her way so she cleared her throat loudly, still feigning agitation and glanced at her watch again.

He then appeared shoulder to shoulder with her. "Alright there, luv?"

His voice was strained and she knew she should be the one asking _him_ that. But she didn't need to. She knew.

"Let's go." Cal touched her back briefly as they headed in the direction of the exit. People were everywhere and they did there best to dodge around them. He kind of felt like a salmon rushing upstream. Crowds annoyed him on a good day. _Now_ they were unbearable.

Cal kept his eyes moving, looking for anything that might be amiss, despite being jostled and having at least two people bump into his bad arm.

That's when he saw him.

Their eyes locked over a ten-yard distance.

_Oh fuck. _One of the guys at the house. The bastard that shot him.

"Gill, we gotta _move now!_" He grabbed her arm as they moved into the throng of airline passengers milling, grabbing luggage and swarming out toward rental cars and taxis. For once Cal was actually happy that he was on the shorter side.

He hazarded a glance over his shoulder to find the man craning his neck, face angry and desperate before starting to push his way into the crowd after them.

They followed the flow out of the main terminal toward the parking garage. Unfortunately the crowd was starting to thin and Cal made his way to the stairwell to climb to the next level where they'd left the Toyota. They pushed through the door, moved several feet off to the side and waited.

"What are you doing?" Gillian's voice was quiet and shaking.

"Gotta know if he saw us come this way." He let the tire iron slip out of his jacket sleeve. "Don't want him to nail us at the car."

A family of four made their way up the stairs, out the door and hung a left. They didn't even look to their right.

Cal waited, hearing Gill's rasping breath and almost feeling her pounding heart rate. His easily fell in synch with hers.

Two women stepped through the door next, one glancing at them uneasily before they headed straight.

"Maybe he didn't see us." It was a hopeful whisper and Cal didn't respond. His instincts were buzzing all over the place and he tended to trust them.

_There._

The echo of leather sliding deliberately against the stairs.

_What the hell? Why wasn't he rushing up the stairs?_

Because he suspected. The man's instincts were also in tune.

Cal tightened his hold on the crowbar. Like an idiot, he'd left the gun in the motel room. _It was so hard to think._

A click of a heel tapped against the concrete.

_Come on, come on._ A thin sheen of sweat separated his hand from the metal. He would have shifted it to the other hand to wipe his palm on his jeans but there wasn't time. He turned to Gillian and jerked his chin. _Go around the other side. Get out of sight._

She shook her head and he jerked his chin again, jaw pulsing in fear, anger and pain.

_No. I'm not leaving you_. She had that stubborn set to her face which he was more than a little too acquainted with.

The door handle turned and Cal readied himself. His weapon was in his right hand even if it was attached to his bad arm. Far from ambidextrous, he didn't trust that he'd be able to get a good swing in with his left. Lesser of evils he supposed.

It pushed out slowly and Cal caught a glimpse of darkness through the narrow window above the knob.

The door then flew open with a bang and Cal stepped forward and lashed out at the gun hand.

Despite his fine tuned senses, the man hadn't been expecting that. The Englishman was wounded and should have been vulnerable. He watched his gun bounce of the concrete and felt the crack of his wrist breaking. In slow motion, he caught the other man's eye.

No. Not vulnerable. _Furious_

The next blow caught him at the temple and then there was nothing.

Breathing hard, Cal stared down at the other man. He would have kicked him if his energy level hadn't been almost on empty.

"Is…is…he dead?" Gillian had crept back up behind him.

He honestly didn't know. Dropping to a crouch, he checked for a pulse. After a moment, he shook his head, not sure if he should be relieved or not. "Got to move him."

Between the two of them they managed to slowly drag the man around the opposite side of the stairwell and drop him behind the electrical room. It was a miracle no one came around. Gillian took a moment to thank the fates.

It was time to get the hell out of there.

* * *

_**A/N: It occurred to me after I wrote myself into a corner about the unlikelihood of airport lockers in this time and place so I appreciate you all suspending disbelief regarding that little oops. Hope you're enjoying the ride anyway.**_


	11. Chapter 11

Cal leaned his head against the cool glass of the window and closed his eyes. Every damn part of his body ached, his arm burned and hurt like hell and his head pounded. He just wanted to go to sleep but knew he couldn't quite do that just yet.

Shaking and full of adrenaline, Gillian's eyes were wide as she guided the car out of the airport. It was big. Maybe not LAX or Chicago but big enough.

"Was there anything in the locker?" She cast him a look, her brow crinkling in a worried frown. The antibiotics didn't seem to be helping at all. "Cal?"

He opened his eyes but didn't move away from the glass. "Thumb drive. Need to go to library or someplace." It pissed him off that they were both without their laptops but it wasn't like they could have asked the gunmen to hold up while they grabbed a few things.

Gillian only had to think for a moment. "Georgetown."

Her old alma mater.

"Kay." His eyes slid shut again.

* * *

It was only a half-hour drive and being a Sunday, parking wasn't as much of an issue. Fortunately, like any major university, the library or in this case, _libraries_ were open seven days and late into the evening. The campus had seven or eight of them, what with the law and med school and everything in between.

She stayed on the main campus and sought out Lauinger, the one she was most familiar with. This was primarily the social science library but it also housed government, business and a gallery on one of the upper floors. And of course it had a state of the art media center.

Shifting into park, Gillian turned to him, eying him worriedly. "You could stay here."

Cal shook his head. "Don't want to separate."

"Can you make it?"

"Course." He turned to open the door and pull himself out.

She hopped from the driver's seat and crossed to his side, before taking his arm. The heat radiated through the fabric of his coat and she bit back a tiny gasp.

"Let's see what we've got here, yeah?" He flicked an eyebrow up and managed a small grin.

* * *

"Holy shit." Cal blinked hard once or twice as he stared at the computer screen.

"Oh my God." Gillian had pulled a chair up next to him and felt her jaw drop.

_Everything_. Barbara Crandon had managed to steal information regarding a huge amount of Vincenzo's underhanded dealings. Money laundering, drug smuggling, gambling rackets and so much more all hidden under umbrella businesses. She had stolen the information right out of his bedroom, so to speak.

"Guess this explains a few things." Cal reached to eject the drive. "Someone's life is about to go down the crapper."

_Hopefully not theirs._

"We should make copies." Gillian tilted her head toward him. "Make sure that the bureau gets one as well as the police. Not _everyone_ is going to be in his pocket."

He nodded, thinking that they might need more than just a few.

"We're going to go back to the motel for now and give Ben a call." Her voice was suddenly so self-assured.

Cal nodded again, trusting her to think clearly because at that moment he couldn't and it was getting worse.

* * *

"Cal?"

He didn't respond.

"Cal? C'mon." Gillian pulled open the passenger side, glancing around quickly to make sure no one was around.

Finally stirring he blinked up at her. "Sorry luv."

"Let's get you inside." She didn't want to grab his bad arm so she just hovered while he awkwardly got his feet under him. Once he was standing, she caught him around the waist to help him back to the room. He was burning up and unsteady.

Sitting at the foot of the bed, he watched as Gillian ran back outside to grab some supplies she'd insisted on stopping at the drugstore for and the drive-thru food that they'd just purchased.

With any luck, this was almost over. Gillian was going to call Ben and now that they had some solid info, the man would do whatever he could to help them.

She was suddenly shoving a wrapper into his hand and he frowned down at it. "Eat."

"Not hungry."

"I don't care. EAT!"

Cal offered her a slow but lascivious smile. "Bossy Foster is kind of a turn-on you know."

Managing a stern look, she felt the tiniest bit of heat crawl up the back of her neck and silently berated herself for it. "Whatever." Turning her back on him, she pulled out more meds for him and made him take those too. She'd picked up some ibuprofen so he'd be able to take the Demerol as well.

He eyed her again but refrained from making further comment, deciding to take a few bites of the sandwich to make her happy before crawling up against his pillow and flopping down in exhaustion.

As she spoke with Ben, Gillian watched Cal closely. She was going to have to clean and redress his wound and give him a bit of a sponge bath to help bring down the fever. It wouldn't be pleasant for him but it was the best she could do, knowing that he needed real medical attention.

Ben was not a happy camper. As usual, he was pissed at Lightman for not contacting him earlier but at the same time, there was an underlying pleasure that they might just be able to take a scumbag like Tyrone Vincenzo down. It was quite the coup.

He told them to sit tight and with any luck, the cavalry would be out shortly.

She tossed the phone back in her purse before taking a moment to eat her own sandwich, all the while keeping her eyes on Cal. He was pale, sweating and feverish and she hoped the meds would kick in soon.

Taking the ice bucket, she filled in with clean, warm water and grabbed a new washcloth from the bathroom.

He hadn't even taken off his coat before he'd dozed off.

"Cal." Gillian's voice was soft.

"Mmmm…?"

"We need to take your coat and shirt off."

His eyes slid open as he regarded her. She expected some sort of sexual comment but he said nothing and that worried her even more.

With effort, he sat up and she helped strip him down to the waist.

"Cold."  
"I know. I'm sorry." She gently pressed him back down and his eyes shut once again.

With gentle fingers, she cut off the bandage around his bicep, cringing at the blood and redness. There was a tiny bit discharge but mostly it was swollen with a subtle but unpleasant odor. That couldn't possibly be a good thing.

She tucked a towel underneath the limb and bathed the wound with warm, soapy water, laying a hand on him when he tried to roll away. "Stay still Cal."

He let out a low groan. "Fuckin' hurts."

"Sorry. I need to clean it."

Rinsing the soap away, she poured more peroxide over it and watched, cringing slightly, as it bubbled and foamed. She knew that it didn't really sting, just looked like it did. Drying it thoroughly, she used the antibiotic powder she'd purchased before taping the large bandage over the wound and wrapping gauze around his arm again.

Cal hadn't said anything more, so she figured everything was kicking in and he'd dozed off.

Moving away, she dumped the water, rinsed the container and refilled, this time grabbing a hand towel.

Once again, she sat next to him, running the towel through the water before wringing it out and gently wiping his face, neck and across his chest, seeing the gooseflesh pop up on his too warm flesh.

A frown pulled at his face as she once again murmured an apology. "You can cover up with the sheet when I'm done but we need that fever to break."

His eyes were barely open but she caught a glimpse of their color as he steadily watched her. Apparently he wasn't as out of it as she thought. With a shaking hand, he reached out and ran his fingers down her cheek before cupping it gently. "Thanks luv."

The warmth of his hand seemed to trickle into her, rush to her belly before flaring outward. She fought a shudder and gave him a smile. "What are friends for? After all, who else would do this for you?"

"_No one_." Cal's eyes were open a tiny bit more and his expression was intense for a moment before turning slightly hazy.

She took his hand, squeezing it before leaning forward to brush her lips against his cheek.

Things were getting pretty blurry around the edges but he had enough presence of mind to take advantage of the situation, figuring she wouldn't have the heart to scold him.

He turned his head at the last moment and she caught him on the lips instead.


	12. Chapter 12

It had been on complete impulse with maybe a little bit of instinct thrown in. He shouldn't have done it but was pleased and surprised when she didn't pull back. The kiss lingered for only a few seconds but it gave him just that tiny bit of hope he was looking for.

Nonetheless he felt compelled to apologize, maybe just to give her an out. "Sorry." He let his eyes fall closed to avoid any look of annoyance that he might see.

She said nothing for several long moments before he felt her fingers glide down the stubble of his cheek. "Get some rest Cal."

Her voice was gentle and that was a good sign. He took the glimmer of hope with him as he drifted off.

Gillian pushed his hair back from his damp brow before getting up and pulling the sheet over him.

He was a flawed but good man. In the end he always strived to do the right thing even if it did run a circuitous route.

And he wanted her.

The tiny kiss had resulted in a tingle that started somewhere near her toes before traversing the length of her body, despite how chaste it had been.

If they survived this ordeal she might consider taking a chance. And she might very well be out of her mind.

With a sigh and a last peek at Cal, she grabbed the bag from the drugstore and headed for the shower.

* * *

A half an hour later Gillian felt vaguely more human. She'd tried to sluice the last couple of days away but had to be content with washing away sweat and some tension instead.

She pulled her wet hair back into a stubby ponytail and went to check on Cal.

He hadn't moved but when she sat on the edge of the bed to softly touch his forehead, his left hand shot out and grabbed her wrist as his eyes edged open.

A loud gasp escaped her and they stared at one another for several long moments

Recognition made its way through the fog and he blinked, confused as his grip relaxed. "Sorry luv."

"I didn't mean to startle you." She gave him a smile as she slowed her breathing to slow her heart.

"S'okay." He gazed at her, tilting his head. "You smell good."

"A shower will do that." She gently pulled her hand away to finish what she'd started. With relief, she noted that his skin didn't feel quite as warm as before.

"Could use one myself." His smirk was gradual, as if testing the waters.

"Well, you'll enjoy it all the more when you can take one."

Cal continued to smirk. Unless he was hallucinating there seemed to be a tiny darkening of her eyes.

"Stop it Cal."

"Stop what?"

"You _know_ what. Go back to sleep." She narrowed her eyes in mock threat.

"More fun to annoy you." He _was_ tired but after that kiss, he felt compelled to toe the line a little and see what happened. If nothing else, he was certain she wouldn't drop kick him in his current condition. Although she might very well save it for later.

_At least he was feeling better_. That was a good thing. The Ibuprofen had slacked the fever and the painkillers were also doing their job but as his comfort level shifted so did his compulsion to flirt. She knew it was in her best interest to step carefully but God he made it hard. His eyes were intense as they often were but there was a playfulness lurking in there too that made her heart start to thrum once again but for a different reason.

His fingers ran down her arm lightly but as she suppressed a shudder he let her off the hook. "You spoke with Reynolds, yeah?"

"I did."

"Pissed?"

"Of course."

"What's the plan then?" Wincing, Cal pushed himself up to sit against the headboard while Gillian eyed him warily.

"Sit tight and he'll get back to us."

"Great plan."

Gillian raised an eyebrow and gave him a cool look but didn't comment.

"Possible that they know his connection to us so they might be watchin' him. Be fuckin' wonderful if he leads them right to us."

"He's aware of it." She had a lot of faith in Ben and normally so did Cal. His reserves were just firing on empty at the moment, so suspicion was clearly honed. "He plans on choosing his confidences carefully."

Cal grunted. "Let's hope so."

His ring tone split the tension between them and they both startled.

Reaching over he pulled the phone off the nightstand and answered with a brusque: "Yeah?"

"Hello Dr. Lightman."

Frowning, Cal said nothing but he felt a profound coldness nestle in the pit of his stomach.

"I just wanted to say that you have really impressed me. Most people wouldn't be so…slippery. But I guess most people aren't like us."

"Who the hell is this?" It was a low growl that originated deep within him. The fear was still there but anger was quickly eclipsing it.

There was a light chuckle at the other end. "Oh, I think you know the answer to that question. But it doesn't really matter does it? What's important is the fact that you have something that doesn't belong to you. I'd be willing to…overlook that little transgression if you'd be willing to return it."

"No clue what you're talking about."

"We both know that's not true. Miss Crandon was last seen in your company. An associate of mine saw you at the airport where I _know_ she disembarked the day before. Would be a bit of coincidence don't you think? Oh, and by the way, you gave him a really nasty concussion but he should be fine if you're at all concerned."

"Warms my heart."

The man chuckled again. "I apologize. I tend to digress easily. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes. My property. I want it back." The friendliness left his voice as it turned to slate. "If you return it, maybe I'll let you live."

"That's nice and sportin' of you."

"It is actually. Oddly enough I've enjoyed this little adventure but all games should end at some point, don't you think?"

"Oh, I dunno. Monopoly can stretch on for weeks if the playin' field is even."

"Funny Dr. Lightman. Do you _really_ think the playing field is even?"

_No_, but he'd never admit it out loud. "Much as I'm enjoyin' this little conversation, I need to get a move on. You know, things to do, people to see."

"Of course. Please say hello to Dr. Foster for me though. I'll catch you around." The smugness oozed through the phone when Cal hit end. He stared at the far wall for several seconds before meeting Gillian's huge eyes.

"Was that…?"

"Yeah."

"Ben should be getting back to us anytime now…" Her voice shook slightly.

His face tightened. "Can't wait. Think we need to be on the move again." Cal swung his legs over the side of the bed, gritting his teeth.

"This _second_?"

"Yeah. No muckin' about. Need to hit the road _now_."


	13. Chapter 13

They headed north, stopping only twice. Even if Cal didn't survive this whole mess, he had every intention of bringing Vincenzo down with him. They'd burned copies of files from the thumb drive onto several disks and arranged to send them in different directions. One was going to Ben and several went to District Attorneys in cities where the mob boss' activities were most prevalent. The other stop was to replace their cell phones with one cheap pre-paid model. They'd wiped the memories of the old ones and left them in the other motel room just in case they were being tracked.

* * *

The sound of the tires against the road was lulling as the night dropped around them. He was exhausted and despite himself, he gradually dozed off.

What only seemed a few minutes later, Cal jerked awake to the bump and swerve of the car. "What the hell?"

Heart racing, he glanced over at Gillian noting the drawn complexion and tired eyes. She'd been driving for hours and had started to drift before righting herself.

"Let me take over."

"You're not in any shape to take over." There was resolve in her voice but it was waning.

That wasn't entirely untrue but she wasn't looking so good either. "Obviously neither are you luv. Just find a place to stop then. We can move on again when we've had some sleep." He narrowed his eyes, scanning the darkness for some clue to their whereabouts. "Gill, where are we?"

"Pennsylvania." She frowned slightly. "Probably close to the New York border by now."

"Alright, darlin'. Think it's definitely time to call it a night then. Next motel that doesn't look like Norman Bates works there; you go for it, yeah?"

Gillian nodded, too tired to argue. She actually had a particular place in mind but they wouldn't be able to make it. At least not tonight.

A green reflective sign advertised the next tiny town and a handful of lodging, so she set her sights on that.

Ten minutes later, they pulled into the parking area of a rustic little inn with a natural wood exterior. Gillian would have found it charming if she weren't so damned tired. Six or seven cars were in the guest lot and she pulled up next to the office so Cal could go work his magic.

This time the woman was older and although no less susceptible to his charms, he still had to cough up $100 as a deposit. Fortunately they weren't cash poor. He just hoped to hell they weren't mugged on top of everything else.

Cal slid back into the car and gave a wave in the general direction. "110. By the pool. At least it's too cold to worry about late night water wankers."

* * *

The room was reminiscent of a bed and breakfast, with knotted pine country furniture and multi-colored quilts depicting Pennsylvania Dutch symbols. A small 19-inch television sat atop the dresser directly across from the two double beds. As before, a circular table was parked under the window with two chairs adjacent.

Cal wasn't feeling so hot again but he was more concerned about Gillian.

She'd said very little and with her gaunt expression and her inability to find a place for herself, he figured the gravity of the situation was really starting to hit home. It was amazing that it had taken this long.

Dumping her purse in one of the chairs, she looked around without interest and just starting to roam aimlessly, stopping to turn the TV on for noise, fingering the tourist literature next to it before wandering toward to powder room and toilet area.

"Gill?" He'd sat down on the edge of the bed but was watching her carefully.

"Yeah?" Her voice was listless.

With effort, Cal pulled himself back to his feet and approached her. He ran his left hand down her arm before curling it through her fingers, noting hers were cold. Or maybe he was too warm again. It didn't really matter though. "I'm sorry."

She blinked and frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"This. All this. It's my fault. If it weren't for me, you'd be safe at home."

"And you'd be in worse shape or possibly even dead." She met his eyes and he saw her usual determination. "This is a completely messed up situation but it isn't your fault." She allowed a smirk. "Well, at least not all of it anyway."

She was right. She'd really saved his ass but it only made his guilt feel sharper. "Still should never have happened." Cal murmured, taking a half step back.

"Hey." Gillian stepped into the tiny space he'd just vacated and wrapped herself around him. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before his good arm slipped around her waist and pulled her a bit closer. His body was once again a little too warm and she moved back just enough to look up into his face. "We need to clean the wound again and get some more meds into you."

Cal didn't say anything, just continuing to stare down at her. He lowered his face slowly before his lips came softly in contact with her cheek. "Think I'm gonna raid a vending machine first and then grab a shower. If you could help me out afterward, I'd appreciate it."

She hadn't taken a breath within the last few seconds before she remembered to pull some air in. "Of course."

"Thanks." He turned and slipped through the door a moment later.

The hallway with vending machines and ice was just around the corner so she figured he should be okay. There was no way _they_ could know where they were now.

With a sigh, she followed him outside but stepped to the car instead to grab the supplies she'd purchased. On a whim, she also snagged the bottle of Jack Daniel's that Cal's friend had given him before heading back inside. One drink would be a welcome thing at this point.

Sitting on the bed, she kicked off her shoes and pointed the remote at the TV. She flicked through looking for anything that wouldn't involve her using her brain. _Stick a fork in me, I am _done_._ She almost smiled but couldn't quite do it.

Stopping on _The Addams Family_, she watched with trace amusement. Gillian had always watched reruns of the show when she was a kid so it gave her a little time to reflect on pleasant childhood memories instead of...this.

_Thing_ had just freaked out the house guest in the usual manner when her eyes fell to her watch. Where the hell _was_ he?

Uneasiness skipped to sudden panic as she leaped off the bed, stepped into her tied sneakers and made a direct line for the door. _They couldn't have found them! There was no way! _Was there? Or maybe he'd gotten dizzy, fallen down and was out there lying in a heap bleeding again.

_Oh God._

Not bothering with her jacket, she yanked the door open and almost bounced right off of him. After she'd found her breath and her heart started up again, she glared at him. "Jesus Cal! Where the hell were you?"

Puzzlement sifted through his features quickly followed by understanding. He held up the items in his hands as if they were peace offerings. "Sorry luv. Couldn't decide."

Gillian stared at the assortment of chips, granola bars and chocolate before letting out a hefty breath. Mutely, she stood aside to allow him in so he could unload his stash on the table. There were even more snacks in his pockets as well as a couple bottles of Coke.

"You scared me." She was disappointed to hear that it was a whine.

"Didn't mean to." Cal gave her a little smirk but she could see that it was strained. Once again, sweat was glistening on his forehead.

"Think I'm gonna just go ahead and…" He tilted his head toward the bathroom.

"Are you going to be alright?"

This time the smirk was stronger. "I'll leave the door unlocked…just in case." Cal managed a wink as she rolled her eyes.

* * *

It took a little more effort to unwrap his arm than he thought it would, but somehow he managed and dumped the old bandages in the rubbish. Even as scruffy as he sometimes found himself, the idea of changing back into the same clothes he'd been wearing for the last few days was a little off putting. But at least _he'd_ be clean. Maybe they could slip out and buy a couple of things tomorrow. Maybe some other changes might be in order as well. Unless he was being even more paranoid than usual. He thought about it as he carefully stepped into the shower. _No_. There was no such thing as being too paranoid in this situation.

Gritting his teeth, he turned toward the spray and had to bite back a groan as the water pummeled his wound. He watched as dried blood and clots ran off his arm to swirl down the drain. It hurt like a bitch and the dark dots that floated behind his eyes had him rethinking his choice.

_Shit._

Cal took a deep breath and tried to stave off the blackness that was threatening to pull him under. He took another as nausea rolled through his belly.

Not good.

He'd be damned if he was going to call out to Gillian. Talking about awkward. It would be even worse for her.

Leaning against the wall, he squeezed his eyes shut, counted to himself and concentrated on his breathing. He thought about sitting down in the tub but figured he wouldn't be able to get up again. Best just to lean for now.

Several minutes passed or maybe it was more than that. The water seemed cooler and he could just now hear Gillian knocking on the door.

"Cal? Are you okay?" Her voice was so concerned, so caring that he felt warmth build up inside.

"Ummmm…yeah." Was that _him_? He sounded so far away.

"You sound funny."

He smiled. "I always sound like that. It's the accent."

Gillian frowned at the door, debating about just going in but not wanted to invade his privacy. "Do you need my help?"

_Did he_? He wasn't sure. But he didn't really want her to see him naked either. At least not yet.

Reaching down, he stopped the water but continued to lean for another few moments. "S'okay luv."

"You sure?"

_No_. "Yeah."

She didn't believe him and decided to stay put. Any sudden thunk or loud noise and she was going in, privacy be damned.

Gripping the towel rack, he shakily stepped out of the tub, once again leaning against the wall, noting how cold it was against his bare ass and stifling a shiver. Taking his time, he wiped the minimum amount of droplets off his skin before carefully reaching down and grabbing his underwear and jeans. As the blood rushed to his head, he blinked away the dots once again but it didn't seem as bad this time. He awkwardly pulled the boxer briefs on and then his Levis but didn't bother to button them.

_There. That wasn't so bad._

He pulled open the door to find himself face to face with Gillian. Her eyes were wide with worry.

"Hi." That was all he could think to say.

"You look terrible Cal."

"Don't feel so good."

She instantly looped her arm around his waist and guided him to the closest bed. "What happened?"

"Dunno. Just hurt more than I thought it would."

Gillian got him situated and went into nurse mode once again. She made him take his meds first before cleaning and wrapping his arm. By the time she was done, she could barely keep her own eyes open.

"Don't deserve you." His lids were only half open.

"You're right. You don't."

"I give good hugs though." The side of his mouth twitched and he held out his left hand in invitation.

"That you do." Gillian curled up next to him, wrapped in his one armed hug.

Cal pressed his lips against her hairline and when there was no reaction, he gave an honest smile.

She'd fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder and one hand over his heart. He was right behind her just a moment later.


	14. Chapter 14

Gillian awoke comfortable, warm and more than a little confused. Gradually she began aware that she had fallen asleep next to Cal. Her hand was against his bare chest and his good arm was around her shoulders, holding her close.

It should have been awkward but oddly enough, it didn't feel that way.

Early morning light was peeking through carelessly pulled curtains but Cal was still in deep slumber, his breathing slow and even. His skin didn't feel overly warm for the moment and she could only hope that the fever would stay away.

Very gently, she attempted to wriggle out from under his arm but his hold tightened. Not that it was a particularly bad place to be in but she was starving and granola bars on the table were beckoning but she really didn't want to awaken him. He needed the rest.

She waited a few more minutes, taking the opportunity to study him with his barriers down. Sleep took years off him and she found it sad that he always felt compelled to protect himself when awake. Not that it was surprising, considering his past, not to mention, the present.

He began to stir under her gentle perusal as if he sensed her eyes upon him.

"Hey." Cal's lids had cracked open and his voice was a little raspy but he gave her a smirk.  
"Hey yourself." She smiled back at him but took the opportunity to move out from underneath his arm.

Disappointment flickered but slipped away before it took hold. "Should get some stuff."

"Yup."

Cal's gaze followed her as she approached the table, grabbed a snack and plopped down in one of the chairs. Granola bar, but he'd made sure to get the ones with chocolate chips just for her. "Wonderin' how you felt about changin' your appearance a little."

She took a delicate nibble. "You think that's necessary?"

"Dunno." He pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed before getting to his feet and crossing toward her. Gillian was happy to see that he didn't seem unsteady. Maybe the worst was behind him.

"I figure it can't hurt."

"What about you?" She looked at him intently and he felt vaguely like a rabbit staring down a fox.

"What do you mean?"

"If I'm going to go incognito, you should too." She finished her granola bar and immediately grabbed another.

"Wouldn't anythin' I do would look…I dunno…obvious?"

"Not necessarily." Once again, that _look_ was all over her face, like he was one of those toy Barbie heads like Em had had when she was little. It had come with make-up and curlers and all kinds of crap. Emily had loved it, Zoe had been amused by it and he'd absolutely abhorred the creepy thing. He was starting to regret bringing up the whole appearance change to begin with.

Gillian waved her snack at him. "We _do_ need to get some more clothes and a few other things." She took another bite, chewed slowly as she took measure of him. "No offense Cal but you're not smelling so good."

He pouted at her and she fought a smile. "I showered."

"Did you actually use soap?"

_Nope. Too busy trying not to pass out. _He didn't respond to the mild insult. "Fine. Let's see if there's a…_mall_…or somethin' around."

She noticed the word "mall" stick in his throat but decided not to tease him about it.

* * *

The only place to go was the big box store that seemed ubiquitous with small town America. Cal did little to hide his derision as Gillian found a parking space.

"Are you being a snob?" She flicked an eyebrow at him, teasing.

"Absolutely not! Just thinkin' from a humanitarian perspective."

"Uh huh."

As soon as they were out of the car, Gillian began to question the wisdom of bringing him here. He was starting to feel better and with that, came boredom. The fact that they were running for their lives didn't currently enter the equation.

"Good grief."

Gillian had stopped at the salon just inside the store to see about getting her hair cut but now turned to Cal. "What?"

"She looks like a sausage comin' out of its casin'."

"Huh?" Just then she caught a glimpse of the woman in question, horror rising in her over Cal's inability to self-edit. "Cal!"

"_What? _It's true luv. Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes but some people need a mirror and need to be honest about their reflections."

The problem was that he wasn't completely wrong. The woman was too big for tights and a mini skirt. "Cal. Shut up."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "How come you're tryin' not to laugh?"

"It's nervous laughter." She was instantly defensive.

"Sure it is."

Gillian was saved when the stylist called her back. "Be good Cal. _Please_?"

"Course." He watched as she was seated and fitted with a cape. Part of him thought he should go wandering but the other part wanted to stay close. He decided to stay and observe.

Gillian was very aware of his scrutiny and felt an equal mix of annoyance and flattery.

"He your boyfriend?" The stylist was just making conversation but Gillian's stomach flipped.

"No, no. Just a friend."

_Just a friend?_ That in no way described their relationship now. It was in the process of…evolving.

"Oh. He's kind of cute. Intense but cute."

Gillian almost started laughing. _Intense but cute?_ "That he is."

Cal saw amusement of both women's faces but couldn't hear the discussion. They'd glanced his way and he couldn't help but feel he was a subject of conversation. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Her locks were starting to hit the floor and he hoped to hell she wouldn't get it cut _too_ short. He wanted to feel how soft it would be sifting through his fingers.

_Jumping the gun aren't you?_ Maybe, maybe not. Something was definitely shifting though.

Cal turned away to continue people watching. Overalls. Lots of overalls. Mullets. Lots of those too. One guy was dressed like Grizzly Adams. There was a woman with leggings that matched her skin color. _That_ one gave him quite a start until he realized she _was,_ in fact, wearing something on her lower half. He decided to look back toward Gill. Much better.

It looked like she was almost ready to go. Thank God.

And her hair wasn't overly short. Chin length and kind of bouncy. What did they call it again? A bob or pageboy of something like that. It was cute. _She was cute._

She looked up and caught him staring. _Well?_

A smile had settled into his eyes. Apparently, he approved. _Not that it mattered of course…_

Paying the stylist, she made sure to give a generous tip before meeting Cal at the entrance.

"Ready to do a little shopping?"

"You really want me to answer that darlin'?"

* * *

"Used to be blindingly blond when I was a kid."

Gillian stared at him, trying to picture it. He was fair enough but she still had a hard time imagining it.

"Bloody yellow in fact."

She continued to stare. "Guess we'll see." She picked up another box.

"There's no way I'm turnin' ginger." His look was one of warning.

As they stood in the hair dye aisle he was becoming more and more unhappy and she was having a hard time hiding her amusement.

"You could go dark brown. That way you could do your beard as well. Get rid of all that gray."

"Oi!" _Maybe he should just shave his head_. Of course, like most men, he worried it wouldn't grow back. He decided to relent. "S'pose."

She grabbed a few boxes as he continued to eye them.

"Do you trust me?"

He blinked and thought about it.

"Cal?"

"Well, yeah. You I trust. I just don't trust what's in there." He gestured to the hair coloring specifically for men.

"Grow a pair. It'll be fine."

He bared his teeth as her and she just smiled. Very few people would tease him in that regard. In fact, most would assume tease a 300 lb Grizzly Bear. Only Emily and Gillian could get away with it. "If my hair fries and all falls out, I'll know who to blame."

"Yup. Clairol."

This time he growled at her.

* * *

They left right before Cal was ready to snap. She could feel the storm brewing and figured the few articles of clothing, toiletries and non-perishable food items would take them through. They'd stock up more just before they arrived at their destination.

Her brother kept a cabin in upstate New York for hunting purposes and had always given her an open invite. She'd just never taken advantage before but she figured the situation merited it.

They would spend one more night in the motel and head out early morning. She didn't want to be driving through the woods after dark.

"You ready?" The question was more of a preparation than a real inquiry.

"Not really."

"Tough. This was your idea, now you have to deal with the consequences. Now sit!"

"You're bein' bossy again."

"Little boys need a firm hand."

"You're a funny one you are." Cal sat but glowered.

"Mmhm." She had finished mixing the color and turned with gloved hands and bottle. "Stay still."

"Yes, ma'am."

Ignoring the smell of ammonia, he permitted her to start applying the color to his hair, enjoying the feel of her hands on him. She coated his roots first before moving outward and although his eyes watered slightly with the fumes, he kept them on her, watching every single movement.

Unfortunately she was done a little too quickly.

"Now what?"

"Now you sit and be good."

"How long?" It was close to a whine.

* * *

Gillian came out of the bathroom toweling off her hair.

He'd found a soccer game on cable but immediately pulled his eyes off it to land on her. It was a little hard to tell but he could see red under the glare of the powder room lights.

And for some reason he couldn't stop looking at her. She'd changed into fresh jeans and a long sleeved tunic and he caught a whiff of her body wash from where he sat.

"You're staring."

She hadn't even glanced his way but could feel his eyes heavy upon her. Her stomach quivered slightly.

"Sorry luv."

"Don't be sorry. Just stop."

"Can't help it." On impulse he got to his feet and crossed the short distance to her. One hand reached out and gently took a lock of her hair between his fingers. It was amazingly soft.

Sudden realization had him backing up a step. "Sorry."

They stared a one another as she flushed. "Um…it's okay."

He allowed a grin to ease the awkwardness. "Was worried you'd get it cut too short."

"You don't like short hair?"

Shrugging, he continued to grin. "Eh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Not answering, he took a chance and moved back in and touched her hair again, this time letting his fingers run through it.

She watched entranced and immobile .

"Just like how it feels when it's a little longer."

"Is this too short?"

"Nah." He breezed his fingers through it again and she shivered. Cal stopped but didn't move his hand away. His heart was stammering so hard in his chest. He thought maybe he should step away but she didn't look like she wanted him to. Instead of touching her hair again, he lightly ran his hand down her cheek. "So soft." It was barely a murmur.

There it was again. The shift. The evolution. Gillian eyes didn't break with his, feeling pinned beneath his intensity. She thought about that kiss the other night. He'd barely been coherent for it but it had been so soft and promising. Now he was much more coherent and right in front of her. And of course he'd taken his shirt off again when she'd colored his hair and hadn't bothered to put it back on.

Tentatively, she stretched her hand out and whispered her fingers down the center of his chest. It was hairless and lean. He was slight but coiled power ran under his ropey muscles. There was no mistaking the fact that he was a man who could handle himself.

His left hand moved up quickly and caught hers in mid caress. He lifted it and gently touched his lips to the webbing between her thumb and forefinger. She continued to watch as he then kissed each knuckle. He turned her hand inward and pressed his lips to the palm, his eyes not leaving hers.

"Should I stop?" Cal's voice was low, his accent like gravel.

"Probably." So much was going through her head and she didn't want them to push too far too fast. The situation was naturally taking its toll on both of them.

"Okay." He continued to hold her hand and her eyes.

Gillian couldn't pull her gaze away even if it would be for the best. She felt a little like she was drowning but in pleasant and comforting warmth. His eyes were tender. Had they ever looked at her like that before? It was likely, but always with sidelong glances, always very careful. He wasn't holding back any longer. He was now wearing it on his sleeve.


	15. Chapter 15

His eyes soaked in her face, seeing the slight dilation of her pupils, the nervous little lip lick and her soft expression. But he heard her words. When he'd asked if he should stop, she had said "probably."

Despite what he was reading, he gave her cheek a final caress and stepped back. Cal wasn't disappointed in the least. Everything she told him without words made it all okay. They were getting there.

Gillian knew that he was just respecting her wishes but when he moved away, she felt it as a tightening in her belly. She was sending and feeling mixed signals. It was just going to take a little time.

Of course, considering everything, how much time did they really have? Silly question. _Even if they weren't_ _being_ _pursued by Tyrone Vincenzo, they still wouldn't know the answer to that question_.

She caught the hand that had been soft against her face and gave it a squeeze.

* * *

It was a five-hour drive, so they left early. There was supposed to be a general store in the vicinity where they could stock up so she wanted to make sure there was time enough for that, find the cabin and get situated before the shortened day slipped into night. Bobby had mentioned the wood stove and generator and she knew that it was furnished. They should be able to tuck in and hold out for a bit if need be. Of course the idea of being isolated with Cal in the woods was something she was trying not to think on too much.

Cal called Emily en route to make sure she and her mom were okay. They were currently staying with Zoë's parents and soon heading to Europe for an impromptu mother/daughter vacation. He'd sent a cryptic text not long after they'd borrowed the Toyota from Dennis and her maternal reaction had been instantaneous (not to mention pissed off). At that moment he'd been exceptionally thankful that Zoë was the way she was. She didn't screw around.

He then called Reynolds.

"Jesus Lightman! Where the hell are you?"

"On holiday." Cal sighed. "Did you receive our little gift?"

"I did. And so did the D.A.s in Philly, DC, New York and Miami. Vincenzo is a really popular guy now."

"Good to hear. Anythin' else?"

"No arrest quite yet. D.A.s are fighting for jurisdiction but they're going to have to wait their turn. FBI has priority." Cal could hear a tiny bit of pride in Ben's voice. Definitely a feather in his cap if Vincenzo's empire falls down around him. "He's already lawyering up but with this much to go on it might actually be one of the rare cases when the good guys actually win."

Cal grunted, not completely convinced.

Reynolds' voice timbre changed as excitement shifted to concern. "Are you guys okay? Gillian said you were wounded."

"We're okay.

"I can put you in protective custody. All the dirty laundry might be coming out but there still could be reprisal against you personally."

"No offense mate, but I think we may be better off on our own."

"Are you serious? I can have you two in a safe house by the end of the day."

"Don't think so. My name wasn't leaked to the media but those bastards somehow found out who I am and where I live. And you know as well as I do, that witnesses have been known to get plugged goin' to or from your bloody safe houses. I'm not willin' to take that chance."

"I still think it's a bad idea to be out on your own during this thing. You need to think of Gillian."

Cal scowled. "I am. We'll check in with you later in the week. I'm off." He hit "end" without giving Reynolds another chance to protest.

"What's going on?" Gill cast a side look at him before returning her gaze back to the road.

"Looks like Vincenzo is feelin' the squeeze."

"Arrested?"

"Nope, not yet but FBI's on him, city D.A.s are on him. Looks like it's just a matter of time."

"Thank God." Maybe they'd be able to return to some semblance of normalcy soon. Or at least as normal as life gets around Cal.

He didn't say anything, just frowned out the window.

"That's good news though!"

"Yeah, luv. But there's still possibility of revenge against me…or us."

Gillian felt the sinking inside. _Of course_. Someone like Vincenzo wouldn't let it go if he could help it.

"With everything hittin' the fan, he and his top people should be takin' a big header soon. It might take a little bit but eventually we'll be off their radar." _I hope_.

Even he didn't believe that last bit but she didn't comment. She could only think to take one step at a time.

* * *

Despite stopping at a diner at the halfway point, they made good time reaching the Adirondacks.

The general store was only about 6 or 7 miles from the cabin. Close enough to restock if need be unless they had some early inclement weather. It was almost November and the temperatures were already starting to dip below freezing at night, so it was anyone's guess. Gillian planned on getting enough to last for several weeks, although she hoped they wouldn't need it all.

The store was one of those all in one places with groceries, two gas pumps, outdoors supplies, fishing tackle and bait. It had a certain quaint charm but Cal didn't seem to share the sentiment. He looked as if he were stuck in the Bear Country Jamboree at Disneyland and not even trying to hide the horror. She bit back a smile.

"Ever go fishing?" She'd grabbed a cart and was starting to fill it while he trailed behind.

"Not if I can help it."

Gillian smirked. She used to do it as a kid and always wound up skipping stones across the smooth surface of the lake, much to her grandfather's and older brother's chagrin. The idea of Cal fishing, with all the patience required, made her want to burst out laughing. Of course, for some reason she could picture him with one of those little hats and vest with all the lures hanging off it. That made her want to laugh ever more.

"What?" Cal peered at her, suspicious.

"Nothing." She ignored him and continued to fill the cart. The place had a fridge and deep freezer so perishables weren't a problem. She also wanted to get some pre-cut firewood and kindling, unsure if Bobby had left any piled on the deck from his last visit.

"You have a key for this place or will I have to break and enter?"

"Shhhh!" Turning, she gave him a wide-eyed '_why the hell can't you keep your_ _voice down'_ look. "Of course I have a key! My brother gave it to me a couple of years back."

"No one's currently in residence?"

"Nope. Bobby and his family were up about a month back."

"All by our lonesome, yeah?"

The way he said it gave her pause. When she turned to face him, he just gave her his lazy smile.

* * *

The trees were very dense giving Cal a claustrophobic feeling as they drove up the narrow road. Bits of blue broke through the greenery as he caught glimpses of a lake off to the west before it was, once again, swallowed by the foliage.

"Should just be a tiny bit further…" Gillian had slowed down even more, looking for another turn off.

"Out in the middle of nowhere."

"It'll be peaceful."

"Initially. Then it'll become boring." There was a tiny bit of teasing in his voice as he tried to get a rise out of her.

"I'm sorry Cal. When we were at the store, I should have thought to get you some coloring books and crayons."

"I'm sure we'll find other stuff to do." He smirked and she once again ignored him.

The tiny road came up on the left and she guided the car around the corner. It turned out to be just a long driveway and he could see the cabin before them. It was bigger than he thought it would be. Single story but deep, with a wrap around porch and overhang. A small out building flanked it to the south and he could see an inlet from the lake stretch out behind it.

"Well, I guess this is it." Gillian pulled up and parked the Toyota directly in front of the porch. "Hopefully he didn't go and change the locks on me or anything."

"Won't be a problem."

"Can you please just _pretend _that you don't have these…these…criminal tendencies?"

He grinned at her and she returned it after a moment but still managed to squeeze in a little headshake. "You are completely incorrigible."

"I know it darlin'."

* * *

_**Hmmmm…. ;-)**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**Hey ya'll. Just wanted to thank you for all the reviews and comments. Makes my day. :-)**_

* * *

Theo Morgan went by a lot of different names, some known to him and some not. "Moose," "Grizzly," "Cur dog," "No-neck," "Tiny," the list went on and on and although most of them fit in one regard or another, he preferred "Bloodhound." The implication was obvious. Theo was good at what he did.

A mound of shit was falling all around the big boss and his lieutenants but that didn't change anything. Theo still had a job to do. Three others had failed but that was only because Theo had been overseas with his sick grandma. But she was gone now and he was back to work. And _he_ didn't fail.

Dennis Whitaker knew it now too.

He'd locked the door and used the man's own tools and supplies against him. Amazing what little things like duct tape, pliers and wrenches can do. But you have to be careful. Too much force and they'll tell you stuff you don't want to hear, too little and they bullshit you. It was an art finding the happy medium. And Theo thought of himself as an artist of sorts.

Sometimes it got messy. It was just one of those things. That's why he kept the supplies that he did. Coveralls weren't necessarily bad, per se, but they could be a little awkward to destroy. That's why Theo liked those little elastic booties that doctors wore, a long plastic apron from a butcher shop, and latex gloves. Easy clean, easy destroy. No fuss, no muss.

The woman's Volvo was here, tucked away in the fourth bay with a car cover but that was okay. He knew what they were driving now. It was common and sometimes invisible because of that commonality but he had a plate number and that made life so much better for him.

It was probably time to go. The sign said "Whitaker Brothers" and although that didn't necessarily mean anything, he didn't want to take a chance that another brother might pop by the family business.

Theo looked down at the form curled up near his feet. "Thanks again man. Really appreciate the info."

Dennis didn't answer. His eyes were wide and sightless.

The big man stared at him for a moment longer. The wrench was what had let the life creep out. Right to the temple. But he was done answering questions anyway and had started to resort to whimpers and pleas. It had been annoying.

With a final glance around the place, Theo slipped out through the back office into the first car bay. Before he climbed into his Cherokee, he peeled off his outer layer, rolled them into a tight bundle and deposited them into a garbage bag. He then tossed it into the back of the vehicle before coming around to the driver's side. Theo would take care of it later. He didn't worry about being caught because he knew he had the touch. People like him didn't get caught.

He rolled up the garage door before climbing into the Jeep.

There was a new trail he needed to follow.

* * *

"This is beginning to look _a lot_ better." The wound still appeared painful but the redness and swelling were slowly disappearing. The relief she felt practically went to her toes.

He'd helped unload the car and as a result, his arm had started to bleed again. Right away she'd insisted on cleaning it up and of course he'd teased her about just wanting to get his shirt off again. Gillian had pretended not to hear as he sat at the small dinette in the mouth of the kitchen and allowed her to tend to him.

It had turned into a familiar routine playing nurse. If asked, she would fall into denial but in truth, Gillian kind of liked it. Not the fact that he'd been hurt, God no, but she found taking care of him enjoyable. It was probably because of her strong maternal instincts (she tried very hard not to contemplate the irony). Not that she'd say that to Cal. He'd be a little put off by the comparison.

"How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. "'Kay." It still ached but it was starting to turn into more of an annoyance than a liability.

With deft hands she pressed a clean new bandage against it and wrapped more gauze around the bicep.

He noted how her fingers moved with purpose, lightly brushing against his skin and making him grit his teeth. A simple touch was playing havoc with his will power.

"There." Gillian smiled down at him and moved to clean up the supplies.

"Thanks." Cal got to his feet and reached for his shirt. It was a thick cotton long sleeve he'd picked up at the box store, which was good considering temperatures were starting to dip.

The cabin was comfortable with overstuffed furniture and natural floors. A small entertainment center stood against the sidewall with a TV and stereo, despite lack of cable or satellite. There was, however, a huge selection of movies, CDs and games. Bobby had young kids and young kids needed something to do once the sun dropped over the horizon. The opposite wall held a bookcase crammed with books, the bottom two shelves reserved for Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein for the same reason.

"How often does your brother and family come up here?" Cal was slowly buttoning up his shirt and watching casually as Gill moved about, putting non-perishables into the upper cabinets above the refrigerator.

"Um…not completely sure. Several times a year I think."

"Keeps it pretty homey."

"His wife wouldn't have it any other way." She put the oatmeal, Life cereal, hot cocoa and marshmallows away and closed the cabinet with a louder bang than she'd intended. "Why don't you go out on the back deck? Lovely view of the lake."

"With my luck I'll probably be eaten by a bear." It was a low gripe but Cal wandered past her, through the galley kitchen and out the back door.

She sighed and wondered how long it would be before he was driving both her and himself crazy.

* * *

Cal took a slow perusal of the property. The drive was the only way in or out by car but there was a small dock on the inlet. Dense woods lined the cabin to the north and south and of course the only other structure was the outbuilding. It was about the size of a two-car garage and housed the generator, kayaks, a snowmobile and some other outdoors equipment according to what Gillian had said. There wasn't a gun cabinet in the main house and he wondered if there were any rifles locked away out here instead. He still had a fair amount of rounds for his pistol but rifles were good for the long shot.

He was probably being ridiculous but paranoia was a keen survival mechanism as long as it didn't get out of hand. Cal honestly didn't think it was getting out of hand considering the week they'd had.

There was one small window just to the left of the roll up door and Cal wiped some grime away with the edge of his hand to peer inside.

_Hard to say. Loads of crap in there_. He should ask Gill if she had a key for the storage building as well. It would make sense. Not that it was completely necessary. He just didn't want her to get mad at him for picking or breaking the lock.

Cal moved away, listening to the quiet around him. It was a little disconcerting not hearing any kind of traffic, although he could probably get used to it. He wasn't sure if he'd been willing to admit that to anyone though. Heading back toward the cabin, he stopped and gazed out to the larger body of the lake past the tree-rimmed inlet when the cabin stood. The water lapped at the shore just a few feet from his boots as he continued to absorb the scenery. During the summer, it was probably teeming with activity but this close to winter, people packed up and went south or headed to the ski resorts further east. That was absolutely fine with him. He enjoyed solitude. The idea of sharing it with Gillian was alternately exhilarating and terrifying. Their walls were crumbling but he couldn't be completely positive where it might lead. He had his instincts and his hopes though.

"Hey." A gentle hand brushed against his forearm. "You like this place despite yourself don't you?"

"S'pose." His tone was teasing but he sobered quickly. "Just wish the circumstances were a bit different luv."

Gillian didn't answer. She wondered where they _would_ be if all this crap hadn't occurred. Up until the moment someone had started to break into his house, Cal had been shutting her down and out. The day before that, he'd been such a bastard to her that she'd considered telling him to take his partnership and shove it up his ass.

Now she had a little more insight into what had been making him tick. And it revolved around _her_. The realization was still overwhelming but it brought feelings of excitement, warmth and even contentment. It was all so crazy.

"Gettin' a little chilly."

"Mmhm." The sun was starting to make its final arc of the evening and the temperature was becoming a little brisk. She wouldn't be at all surprised if they received snow up here a little early this season.

His left arm found its way around her shoulders and pulled her softly against him. It could have just been friendly but the little tingle told them both that that wasn't the case. His fingers absently plucked at the collar of her jacket before gently kneading the muscle below.

Gillian let out a little sigh and leaned her head against his cheek, somehow sensing the tiny smile pulling at his mouth.

They stood together and continued to gaze out across the water even as the shadows grew long and twilight shifted to darkness.


	17. Chapter 17

They turned together to climb the few steps to the back deck as cold began to seep into their bones. Neither one was wearing a jacket, Cal having wandered out just in his shirtsleeves and Gillian had gone to check on him with only a sweatshirt. They hadn't planned on getting caught up in their respective musings and the closeness of the moment.

When Gillian shuddered, Cal's arm tightened and brought her even closer, willing to share his body heat, willing to give it all to her if ever need be. Without thinking, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, his eyes closing briefly as he did it. When he opened them he was startled to see her staring at him, a lightness in her eyes that he didn't remember ever seeing before.

After regarding one another silently for a full minute, she tentatively reached up and stroked across his unshaven cheek with the pads of her fingers as he fought to keep his heart from bursting in his chest. The gesture was so gentle and loving that despite everything, he felt lucky.

She shivered again and as if contagious, his body trembled as well.

"Best to get in, yeah?"

Gillian felt like she was falling inside. All this time, all these moments and here they were slowly moving forward despite all the odds packed against them. It felt a little surreal.

"Probably."

Cal moved aside to let her past before following closely through the back door. He immediately headed toward the living room with the intention of getting the wood stove going.

"Want something to eat?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Sure darlin'."

Throwing a few logs in, he used newspaper and a lighter and it only took minimal fussing before the blaze was catching and coming to life. They could have cooked on it but since the generator was powering everything else in the cabin, it was just easier to use the traditional stove.

He appeared behind her as she prepared the chicken, taking in the newly red hair and the slim line of her neck before shaking himself off and pulling veggies from the fridge to chop for a quick stir-fry.

They worked silently and their movements seemed choreographed as they pivoted and stepped around one another in the small kitchen without making contact.

Cal _wanted_ to make contact but around raw chicken, hot oil and sharp knives, it inherently seemed like a bad idea. But he enjoyed the domesticity of it all and could envision a time when this would be the rule and not the exception. He hoped he wasn't deluding himself.

Her heart stammered off and on depending on his proximity. When he'd reach past her for some cooking instrument, her pulse seemed to take off and when he'd move away, it settled again. It was a constant ebb and flow as they worked around one another and she felt a little overwhelmed by all the submerged feelings finding their way to the surface. It was crazy.

Dinner and clean up concluded in silence before he began to peruse Bobby's extensive movie collection, anxious to divert his attention. A slow smile took over his face.

"What are you grinning about?" Gill was curled in the corner of the couch watching him suspiciously.

"Wanna play a game?"

Her suspicions heightened even more. "What kind of game?"

"Drinkin' game."

_Uh oh. _"Don't know if that's a good idea Cal."

She looked on as he pouted.

"We could just do it with beer." He'd made sure they'd picked up some, choosing Heineken as the lesser of evils. The bottle of whiskey was still in the kitchen but neither had made a move to open it despite earlier temptations. "It'll be fun."

Gillian stared at him, debating. It _would_ be fun to relax just a little.

Seeing that she was beginning to relent, his smile widening. "Back to the Future. Every time Doc says 'Great Scott,' or Marty says 'Hey Doc,' we take a drink."

She groaned. They'd be blitzed in no time.

* * *

Theo wasn't in any hurry. The tracking was actually a huge part of the fun. Kind of like a huge puzzle that he'd put into place with information from professional and street contacts alike.

They'd stayed outside Baltimore for a time. He knew that from the cell trace but Lightman's phone had then ceased to exist. The man obviously wasn't stupid.

The young lady behind the counter at the motel had looked up at him, color bleaching from her face. "Um, yeah, I remember him."

It was impressive in her line of work that she'd remember _anyone_.

He shook the photo. "Are you sure it was this man?"

Nodding, her eyes were still wide. "Yeah. He said he lost his wallet and wouldn't be able to put down a credit card deposit. I remember mostly because of his accent."

"He had an accent?"

"Yeah, I think Australian but it could have been Irish."

Theo inwardly sighed. _Idiot_.

"Was there a woman with him?" He leaned on the counter, his fake badge still within her range of vision.

She frowned as she considered his question. "I think that there _may_ have been someone in the car waiting for him."

Theo pulled out another photo. "Was this _her_? She could have different hair now."

Her wide brown eyes fell to Gillian Foster's smiling countenance. "Um, maybe." She'd been too drawn in by the charming foreigner to look beyond him and now she just wished she had never taken the crumby front desk job to begin with.

"Did they leave anything behind in the room?"

"Let me check lost and found." She turned quickly, happy to be away from the man even if it was only for a few moments. Something about him creeped her out.

Theo tensed out of habit but let the feeling bleed away. The woman was easily intimidated by authority. She wasn't about to do anything stupid. Well, at least regarding _him_.

The girl reappeared. "Just these. The memories were wiped so we couldn't contact them."

As he figured.

Two cell phones.

* * *

"Rock, paper, scissors."

"Holldd on. Whyy arree wee doinng this againn?" Gillian felt a little confused

Cal blinked at her and squinted. _Why indeed_? "Oh. Uh, choosing rooms. I think."

The cabin had two bedrooms. One with a double bed and the other with bunkbeds and Mickey Mouse sheets.

"I donn'tt thinnkk I should evennn have to do this."

"Why?" He was drunk but she was drunker. And damned cute.

"Cause it'ss _myy_ brotherr's cabin."

"That seems kinda unfair." He moved a little closer and glared into her face.

"Beesides, I drovvee." She glared back, defiant. His eyes were darkening, becoming more intense but her expression didn't change. "Annndd donn't be pullinnng those bedrrroomm eyesss on meee. Not goinnng to worrrk."

He almost smiled but managed not to. "Think so, do you?"

"Knooww sooo."

Without another pause, he was up off the couch and stumbling down the hallway. His legs were a little wobbly and he figured he might be drunker than he'd originally thought.

"Youuu cheeaattt!"

She was right on his tail, grabbing him by the hand and trying to pull him back. Cal turned as she tripped, falling forward and knocking him against the wall. His arms had gone around her waist to steady her before they both went completely still.

Her body was pressed against his, their faces inches apart, breath intermingling.

And they were both inebriated.

He yearned for her with every fiber of his being but in spite of his intoxication, he knew that it wasn't the right time. Hands tightening around her waist, he started to push her away before she moved forward and kissed him.

Cal barely had time to react before she pulled back with a coy smile, sidestepped and disappeared into the master bedroom. She shut the door and he heard her engage the lock.

He stared at the closed off room in disbelief. "Bloody hell. And she says _I_ cheat?"


	18. Chapter 18

Gillian leaned against the door trying to stem her giggles with the back of her hand. The look on his face had been _priceless_.

She giggled until moisture clouded her eyes and her breaths started to pull in in harsh gasps. And then she giggled some more.

A few hiccups later she came to the slow realization of what she'd done. The goofy smile eased away from her face as her heart leapt and trembled in her chest.

She _kissed_ him.

It had been sweet and playful, as if they were a couple. The only problem was that they _weren't_ a couple.

_Oh my God._

Gillian wasn't a cruel person but what she'd done had been just that. Any semblance of amusement was now gone as she slumped a tiny bit and took the required two steps to sit on the edge of the bed. Anger and disappointment in her actions rifled through her. _She'd just led him on._

There was a lot brewing within each of them. It was very obvious that things were slowly coming to a head but she'd leapt over several important steps.

She needed to go talk to him. She was being completely unfair and it was unexceptable. But she also needed to be sober enough to collect her thoughts and be articulate. Being a little drunk was an explanation for her actions but not an excuse.

Flopping back on the mattress, she closed her eyes and threw one arm over them.

_Her body against his. How lean he is. How good it felt._

Stop it Gill.

_His warm arms around her waist. The feel of her lips briefly against his_.

Enough already.

She rolled over onto her side, her fists bunching in the bedspread. A groan started low in her belly before vibrating out from between her lips. _Dear God_. She'd said he had _bedroom eyes_.

Gillian rolled over again, onto her stomach and with another groan she promptly fell asleep.

* * *

The room was cold when she awoke. Not quite "see your breath cold," but cold enough to have settled uncomfortably inside her. Gillian pulled herself to a sitting position, blinking in the light that she'd neglected to turn off. A quick glance at her watch told her she'd been asleep a little over four hours. Long enough for the alcohol to have mostly run through her system. Long enough to be even more embarrassed. Embarrassment hinging on humiliation.

She sat, thinking and shivering before her resolve kicked in. Cal was probably asleep so this sudden determination was ridiculous and the apology would have to wait until morning. Would it be worse by that time? Or would it be a little easier to apologize to him by then? Gillian honestly didn't know. But she _did_ know she wanted to check on him regardless. _Maybe those maternal instincts kicking in again_. Even as the thought formed, she knew that that wasn't all of it. It would be foolish to believe that her need to see him wasn't something more.

The hallway was much warmer and she made a mental note to claim a couch by the woodstove from now on. The door to the kids' room was open but when she peeked in, it hadn't been disturbed. There was no sign that he'd even entered, let alone, slept there.

Frowning, she moved up the hall, a little disconcerted by the deep silence. It had been a long time since she'd been away from the city. Noises deemed annoying now would have been comforting. She figured she'd get used to it within a few days and looked forward to the transition.

Stopping at the entrance to the hallway, she gazed into the living room.

Cal was awake on the couch with his legs stretched out onto the ottoman. The only light in the room came from the woodstove and she watched as fire and shadows danced across his face, alternately deepening and eliminating creases.

"Hey." He tilted his head toward her, a tiny smile pulling at his lips.

"Hey."

Cal absorbed her as she stood in darkness. The firelight didn't quite reach her so he couldn't see her face but from her stance and body language he deduced how nervous she was. She didn't seem to want to approach. It seemed kind of silly but at the same time he understood.

"Warmer over here luv."

Gillian took a breath and moved toward him, sitting close but not too close. "I owe you an apology."

"No, you don't." His tone was gentle.

"No, Cal. I feel like I do." She shifted toward him and her knee brushed his thigh.

His eyes dropped to the point of contact before looking up again. A chill radiated from her body.

"Cold in the back?" Ignoring the apology he frowned at her.

"Yes. A little."

"Come 'ere."

She stared at him, her heart taking off again.

Cal lifted his arm off the back of the couch in invitation and she decided after a moment to accept it. She was freezing and as she moved close, his body immediately began to warm her. A little sigh escaped her as she nestled against him.

Knowing he was dismissing her apology, she tried again. "I'm sorry Cal. I shouldn't have done…what I did."

He was quiet but she could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest.

"Shouldn't you have?" Cal attempted to keep his voice neutral, not wanting to hear the hurt he was feeling.

Tension ran through her body and she felt herself flush. Not knowing what to say, she didn't look at him, choosing instead to concentrate on the fire.

"Alcohol lowers inhibitions and all." He gave a tiny wave of his hand.

"So do painkillers."

He smiled with a touch of sadness. "Touché."

The fire popped a couple of times before one log broke in half in a sea of sparks. The flames burst upward before settling once again.

Her body warmth had finally returned, having absorbed his and the ambient temperature. She leaned her head against his shoulder, physically comfortable, emotionally unsure.

_Did she have any idea how well she fit against him? Perfect puzzle pieces or the_ _melding of a Yin Yang symbol_. _She _had _to know_.

"Gillian."

"Hmmm…?" She finally looked up at him, noting his eyes had darkened to a forest green color in the dim light.

He lifted one hand to her cheek and cradled it in his palm as one thumb stroked the soft skin. She didn't pull away, just watched as his face moved down closer to hers. Cal paused as his eyes flicked quickly between hers. Her expression showed fear but also longing.

_That had to be a good thing_.

"How are those inhibitions?" His voice was raspy and shook ever so slightly.

Gillian opened her mouth to answer but it somehow got stuck. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Having a hard time finding them at the moment."

He grunted, almost like he didn't quite believe her.

Frowning, she watched as the struggle and indecision played out upon his face.

* * *

Lightman and Foster had stopped at some tiny little B&B type place in rural Pennsylvania and like the last motel, the woman remembered the Englishman because of the accent. Theo thought that was really funny. These bumpkins thought the guy was exotic or something. What a load of crap. He chuckled to himself as he left the parking lot.

The car had then been spotted at a 24-hour diner in New York State. Fortunately it was a regular hangout for cops and truckers alike. And Theo had lots of contacts up and down the East Coast from all walks of life.

He wondered how much further north they were planning to go. If they went over the border, it could be a bit more of a hassle for him. Not impossible but problematic nonetheless. He figured he'd worry about it if it happened. Just one more puzzle piece, that's all. He'd just make sure it fit. With a hammer if necessary.

The next off ramp promised several more motels. He thought about stopping to play policeman again because it was actually kind of fun but his instincts told him they wouldn't have stopped so soon. At least _he_ wouldn't in their place. They obviously knew the big bad was coming for them. Theo continued to guide the Cherokee north.


	19. Chapter 19

"I'm sorry for everythin' Gill."

He looked so sad as she felt her heart crack in several places. Cal _never_ looked this vulnerable.

"For which part?" Her tone was teasing, trying to pull him up from his self-imposed nosedive.

The smirk she hoped would appear didn't. "This whole mess. Behaving like a prat at the group." He paused. "And for Barbara Crandon."

Gillian nodded slowly, having forgotten about the woman who had set everything in motion and Cal's role in it. She kept her face carefully neutral knowing that he didn't need any more guilt dumped on him.

He turned to face the fire and as he considered his next few words, his stomach clenched painfully. "If I'd been honest straight away, all this shite wouldn't have happened. At least I'd like to think it wouldn't have."

She stopped breathing and saw the shame lace through his features. "Honest about what?" Gillian couldn't seem to raise her voice above a whisper.

Cal continued to stare past her into the fire, watching it slowly turn to just embers. He'd have to put another couple of logs on soon. "Honest about bein' in love with you."

Silence fell around them in a heavy curtain. Cautiously Gillian started breathing again even as Cal stopped. She could feel the coil of tension in his body.

"So, this is why you've been behaving like a 12-year-old?" Once again, her voice took on the teasing quality even as her insides quivered.

At that moment, he sucked in a breath and his body began to relax. She watched as his lips pulled to the side even though he still didn't look at her. "S'pose. Not good with words and all. You know that."

"You seem to be doing fine now."

He shrugged. "Donne feel like it. So much goin' on inside and can't come close to articulatin' it."

"Cal, look at me."

She noted his brow furrowing in consternation before he finally faced her again. Their eyes met and held.

"You're not going to hide from me again are you?"

"Depends."

"Oh what?" Gillian tilted her head slightly, unconsciously mirroring him, but her eyes didn't waver.

"On whether or not I just made a ripe arse of myself."

She allowed a little sigh as she gathered her own thoughts. "With all your attempts to antagonize me and shove me away, I have to say that you came close to succeeding. I wanted to hate you."

Cal's face sagged slightly as if this were a possibility he hadn't considered but now that it was waving around in from of him, the sadness became even more pronounced.

Gillian hurried in an attempt to pull him out of the spiral again. But she wanted to be honest too. "I really tried but it was…impossible, even though you really had it coming sometimes. What I found myself doing instead was submerging everything. Burying my feelings so deep that your actions couldn't affect them. If I locked them away, you couldn't hurt me quite as much."

"I'm so sorry Gill." Misery made his voice even lower.

She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "If you had just had more faith in me we could have come to this point together so much sooner."

"I…" Cal stopped suddenly as his eyes narrowed. "_What did you just say_?"

Her smile was tentative as tears began to push past her defenses. "I'm _saying_ that if you weren't such a…_plonker_…I wouldn't have felt _compelled_ to hide my own feelings away for so long."

He stared incredulous as his mouth dropping open. "Are you sayin' what I think you're sayin'?"

"What do you think I'm saying?" Her hand moved up and brushed through the hair at this temple, nails against his scalp.

"Gill…do you…_love_ me? I mean, _love me love me_?"

Her smile broadened even as a stray tear found its way down her cheek. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Um…kinda."

"Don't use words then. Read me. See if I'm telling you the truth when I say 'I love you.'" She stuck her chin out defiantly.

He ran his fingers across her cheek and down to the side of her neck when they gently brushed against her skin. The flesh was so soft and her pulse was fluttering like a tiny bird. Cal continued to sweep his eyes over every part of her face, taking his time.

"Well? What do you see Cal?"

Not answering, his fingers found their way into her hair, sifting through, mentally comparing it to silk. He liked the color. It blazed in the sunlight but was now a subdued auburn between the darkness and the fire. Of course he liked her natural color too.

"I see a woman who is no longer hiding from herself…or me." Cal then slowly leaned forward and kissed her. It was a tender but electric friction of his mouth on hers. He demanded nothing but told her everything and she closed her eyes as her tears bullied their way through. He moved away, eyes still absorbing all of her. When he continued to see her openness, he angled his face and kissed her again, still gentle, still without strings.

His breath was then in her ear. "I dunno what I could have done to deserve this but I won't take it for granted." His soft lips were against the lobe and she gave an involuntary shudder. "I want to be a better man for you."

"I think…I…could…get used to… _that_." Her voice came in stops and starts but despite the truth of her words, she couldn't help but tease.

"Yeah?" He lightly ran his lips down her throat before returning to he mouth for another soft peck and then yet another kiss, this one with a tiny bit more pressure but still not pushing for anything else. This time he felt her fingers glide against his cheek, causing him to smile. Cal then wrapped his arms around her and brought her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, in awe that he could hold her this way.

"Yeah. I could get used to _this_ too." Gillian snuggled into him, her eyes drooping as fatigue took over.

* * *

When Gillian awakened, she found herself on her side between Cal and the back of the couch. His arm was protectively around her and her right hand was resting on the steady rise and fall of his chest, her leg looped over his.

He'd had to get up a couple hours earlier to put more logs on the fire. As a result their position had shifted but it wasn't uncomfortable in the least.

Stretching, her leg slid down his and Cal's eyes immediately opened and met hers. "Mornin' luv."

"Good morning." With only a moment's pause, she turned toward him for a kiss. Their kisses from the night before had all been sweet and tender with so much promise. He'd been reverent in their relationship change and had chosen not to push too far or too fast and it had been lovely.

Now as their lips tenderly connected a new electricity crackled within them and they each pulled back ever so slightly to gage the reaction of the other.

"Alright luv?" Cal stared, still a little overwhelmed by their altered relationship.

"Mmhm."

She leaned close and he met her half way as their lips merged once again but this time they moved together firmer and by mutual consent, more deeply. Gillian was propped above him, cradling his face as her tongue flicked and teased his. She felt his hands run along her back as his mouth attempted to dominate hers, the kiss turning wetter and even more passionate.

Breathing hard, they slowly parted, eyes wide and dark. With a trembling hand, he reached up and pushed her hair behind once ear, wanting to flip her around and make love to her but knowing that it was too soon. Besides, as hard as it was, he couldn't lose sight of the reason they were at the cabin. If they allowed themselves to become too distracted, it could prove dangerous, if not fatal. He didn't _think_ they would be found by any of Vincenzo's men, but he couldn't _know_ for sure.

But he kissed her again anyway, allowing a few more moments of bliss before moving to get up.

"Is everything okay?" Gillian was flushed and a little confused.

"Yeah luv." He touched her cheek, tracing freckles lightly with his thumb. "Just feel like I might be droppin' the ball. Meant to ask yesterday but kinda got distracted and all." Cal smiled gently as he said it. The best distraction _ever_.

"Ask about what?"

"I presume you have a key to the shed?"

She blinked. "Um, I think it's on the hook in the kitchen."

_He must be slipping. He hadn't noticed._

"It's fastened inside the pantry."

_Oh, not slipping as much as he'd thought_. _Good to know_. "Think your brother keeps any guns out there?"

Gillian felt herself pale slightly. She'd gotten so caught up in _them_ that she'd briefly forgotten about the surrounding situation. "Probably. Do…do you think it'll be necessary?"

"Probably not. We've covered our trail pretty well but…things happen. Best to be prepared. I'll check in with Reynolds today. Maybe he'll have some news for us."

* * *

It looked like they'd stopped for gas just over the state line. The security camera at the Chevron had not only caught the Camry's license plate but also a brief glimpse of Lightman.

There were all sorts of folks helping him keep an eye out for the Englishman and the woman and it was working out quite well. Of course most of his contacts thought he was a cop and that made it easier if not damned convenient.

So far so good.

Theo squinted through the windshield and watched as early season snowflakes danced and swirled. They were supposedly calling for a couple of inches. That was okay. He liked snow and he liked how the Cherokee's tires dug into the road like teeth.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Thanks for all the feedback! :)**_

* * *

Cal turned his collar up against the cold as he stepped out onto the back deck. A fine snow had started to fall and he stood for a moment, watching as it silently swirled around him. It should have been peaceful but the early winter somehow seemed ominous, the quiet now deafening. Wasn't it just yesterday that he thought he could get used to it? Unease had settled deep within and he hoped that it was just the stress of the last week and not some kind of harbinger of something to come.

The wood creaked slightly and he moved down the stairs and headed toward the outbuilding. Gillian's brother was apparently an avid hunter and gamesman, so with any luck there'd be something Cal could use. His hope was to have something within reach no matter where they were in the cabin.

Pushing the key into the lock of the roll up door, he had to waggle it around before the stiff catch finally released and he was able to give it a hardy push upward. His eyes moved all around the dim interior, noting the propane generator in one corner with several tanks, the covered snow mobile, two kayaks, fishing poles and nets, a large trunk, and two solid shelves with tools, cables and whatnot. Stepping inside, he swung his head to the right and saw the battered cabinet. It was positioned in such a way so no one could see it from the window, which made sense. He maneuvered toward it, careful not to trip and bash himself. The silhouettes of three rifles could be seen from behind glass thick with grime. _Yup, he could definitely use those_. Popping the cabinet open, he inspected the weapons. A medium range Browning, a Winchester Shadow and a .22 caliber Ruger… but no ammo. _Shit._ Cal scanned the room again before his gaze fell to the trunk sandwiched between the built in shelving. Maybe. Picking his way toward it, he pulled open the heavy lid and peered inside. There were more fishing supplies, four canteens, a rolled up tent, boxes, boxes and even more boxes of ammunition and one cleaning kit. Holy crap. Her brother _really_ believed in being prepared for all contingencies. Seemed almost like a nutter survivalist. Not that he'd say that to Gill of course.

Cal started gathering what he needed.

* * *

Attempting to ignore the arthritic creaking of his knees, Gerald Keegan squatted down to stock the dairy section. Normally he'd have the Atkins boy do it, but Scotty was still in school and wouldn't be by for another couple of hours. The dairy delivery had been a little early today so Gerald figured the driver was just trying to beat the weather He silently wished him luck with that.

Gerald rotated _most _of the older dates to the front before placing the new bottles of milk in the back. Customers would still inevitably reach for the back, so he made sure there'd be at least a couple of older ones there too just to throw them off. It was a small torment but he enjoyed it just the same.

The bell on the front door almost had him climbing to his feet before he remembered that his wife Millie was running the register. She did the books but was beginning to help out more and more in the front. Especially now that he wasn't getting around as well as he used to.

A low unfamiliar voice drifted back to him and his face pulled together in a slight frown. During the warmer months, strangers inundated the place but once fall started to bleed into winter, it was a little more unusual. First that couple from a few days back and now another one. Odd.

With a grunt, he heaved himself to his feet to make his way to the front of the store, stopping when he saw the man.

He was big, with dark hair, pocked cheeks, heavy eye baggage and was currently leaning against the counter speaking to Millie. Her face was painted with the forced smile she wore when people annoyed her but there seemed to be a little extra discomfort there. His wife was a pretty good judge of character so something had her antennae up and Gerald wondered what it was.

"Hi fella. What brings ya up here?"

The man turned and Gerald was immediately caught by the blankness of his expression. Dark eyes were sizing him up but all the lax muscles in his face gave the impression of utter boredom. "Was wondering if you'd seen this couple passing through." He pulled two photos off the counter and held them up for Gerald's inspection.

He recognized them immediately but attempted not to show it. The lady had been so very nice and made him wish he were twenty-five years younger and single. "Um, not sure. What's this all about?"

"They're just wanted for routine questioning." The big man pulled out a badge and Gerald looked at it but it was gone before he could focus his myopic vision on it.

"Oh, well, not a lot of strangers coming through here. I'd remember if they had." He glanced at his wife who gave the smallest of nods. _Right answer, Gerry_.

"Town closes down for the winter?"

"Eh. More or less. 75% of the annuals stick around and the rest high tail it for Florida. Snow bird kind of thing. You know how it is."

The smile should have been friendly but it wasn't and Gerald felt a chill. "Of course." He pushed the photos back into the interior pocket of his coat. "You two wouldn't be holding out on me would you?"

"Why would we do that?" The old man met the younger man's eyes with some difficulty but didn't waver. "You are a police officer after all. I'm sure you have good reason to want to talk to those people." _Relax, Gerry. He'll be gone soon._

"It's _very_ important." He reached into his pocket again and the old man tensed but all he did was remove a small spiral notebook. "I ran out of cards, but I'd like to leave my number with you…just in case."

"Absolutely." Millie's smile turned relieved. "Whatever we can do to help."

The man grunted, scrawled a number on one page, ripped it out and placed it on the counter. "I thank you for your time."

With that, he swiveled, peculiarly graceful for his size and stepped out into the snow.

* * *

"What do you think?" Millie moved out from behind the counter to join her husband. She reached for his hand without thought.

"Apparently the same thing you were thinking. Something didn't smell right with that guy." Gerald curled his fingers around her hers and frowned out into the weather.

"Was he really a police officer?"

"Not sure. Doubt it." All he was going on were instincts. Something just didn't bode well.

"Should we call the sheriff?"

"Maybe but I don't know if it would do any good."

"What could he want with those people?" Her blue-gray eyes were wide with concern.

Gerald shook his head, not sure what to say.

* * *

They'd lied to him. Those two old people had blatantly _lied_ to his face. Theo felt the slow burn of anger coil within him as he figured what he should do. Of course what he _should_ do and what he _wanted_ to do were two different things. This was a small town. They would no doubt be missed sooner rather than later. He couldn't take that kind of chance but then again, he couldn't take the chance that they'd alert the Englishman. Theo was so close he could practically smell them and he really didn't want them to rabbit again, especially if that might include them slipping over the border.

Decisions, decisions.

* * *

"Temperature's dropping fast." Gillian noted as she held the door wide for him.

"That it is luv."

The light snow had begun to graduate to heavier clots. Although it wasn't sticking just yet, it seemed to be inevitable.

Cal kicked his boots against the deck before stepping inside. "Your brother is well prepared for the zombie apocalypse, yeah?"

She smirked and pulled the door shut. "Sounds about right. He's been hunting since he was about eleven."

"How 'bout you?" He really couldn't picture Gillian killing anything but she still sometimes tended to surprise him.

"After Bobby brought down his first stag I cried for three days."

"I take that as a 'no' then." A smile pulled at the corner of this mouth and for some reason Cal felt relieved. He'd never been particularly interested in hunting. Couldn't reconcile the whole killing for sport thing even if it did result in a six-month supply of venison.

"I'm lucky I can catch a fish. But then I don't like the idea of cleaning it."

"And here I thought you were hiding all these rugged outdoorsy things from me." Cal threaded his way through the kitchen to the dinette. He gently set the rifles down, along with three boxes of ammo and the cleaning kit.

"Camping I actually like…for the most part. Especially when there's a camper with shower and a toilet…and a pool. A pool is always nice."

An image of Gillian in a bathing suit suddenly assaulted him and it took him a minute to shake it free. He cleared his throat. "You're quite the adventurer are you?" When he'd done his tribal studies all those years ago, the nearest flushing toilet was probably 200 miles away and the idea of swimming brought the very real risk of being served up as an evening meal to the crocs.

"…and it's also preferable to have a nice soft bed." She continued, her voice teasing.

He'd slipped into his memories for split second but the word "bed" brought him back with a start. The way she'd said it had him turning to look at her and he couldn't initially respond. "Oh yeah?"

"Definitely."

Cal peeled off his coat and threw it over the back of the chair, suddenly feeling a little too hot. "Could see that luv. Beats rocks under your bum."

"Mmhm." She wandered away with a tiny smile and he promptly forgot whatever the hell it was he had intended to do.


	21. Chapter 21

Cal watched as she sauntered away, grabbed her book and flopped on the couch. Before she started to read, she gave him such a loving smile that he felt his knees go a little watery.

He imagined doing a lot of things at this point but the reality was, every single one had to wait. At least a little bit until he got everything taken care of. Maybe he'd revisit at that point. The ache of neglect fell below his waist.

_Not now._

"You know you're a tease, yeah?" His voice was a low rumble.

"Yup." She didn't look at him but the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.

With a sigh, he sat down at the table to inspect the weapons. All three were well taken care of but he took his time to give them an additional clean and oil. He also made sure that the magazines were fully loaded. As he worked, the unease settled in and around him once again. His senses were walking a tightrope and it was starting to become crazy making.

He'd called Reynolds earlier and the arrest of Vincenzo was imminent. But Cal couldn't help thinking of a cornered animal or a wolf gnawing off its own leg to escape a trap. It was unlikely the guy would walk away, however he could still pull strings. And that was what worried him. If someone were coming after them, it would most likely be sooner than later.

Sliding the bolt back, he liked the feel of the Browning in his hands. It was a solid weapon and his favorite of the three. He figured the .22 was probably practice for Gillian's nephew although the small caliber didn't make it any less deadly, just less mess.

All three safeties were set. He left one in the dining room, one under the coffee table and one in the master bedroom. His pistol went wherever he did.

Cal then found himself at the front window looking out into the weather, his hands deep in his pockets. The snow was picking up along with the wind. He had no idea how much was expected but at least they had lots of food and wood. If need be, they could always make the trek down to the general store.

Barbara Crandon came into his mind's eye completely unbidden. He pictured her face but it wasn't from when she was smiling and pawing at him. It was the death mask that the black-eyed man had left behind. She'd become a husk with the frozen expression of panic. He felt his stomach curdle at the memory. Not for the first time he wondered why she'd singled him out. If she'd just come on to some other pathetic plonker he would have been left out of it. Of course if he'd had more willpower, the same could be said.

He watched the snow slowly cover the Toyota and far beyond that, the road. Very little traffic at this point. There may have been two cars total pass by since they'd arrived.

If he'd been more on his game, it was possible he could have noticed the assassin stalking the woman. He could have done _something, anything _to prevent this whole snowball effect from occurring. What that something was, he hadn't a clue. The only thing he _could_ have done would have been to stay away from her in the first place. Of course she'd probably be dead regardless. Vincenzo would have found a way. Although the stakes had shifted, he wasn't sure how it boded for his and Gillian's chances.

Gentle arms looped under his and wrapped around his torso. "You're going to drive yourself crazy." Her breath was in his ear before she dropped a soft kiss to the side of his neck.

"Probably." Cal continued to gaze into the white afternoon but he sagged ever so slightly. "Can't turn it off."

She wrapped herself around him a little more tightly and felt his body relax into hers. "You are not responsible for that woman's death."

Cal was quiet as she felt and listened to his breathing, noting the occasional tremor as he struggled with everything.

"Could have prevented it. Sure as hell could have prevented everythin' else."

"No, you couldn't have stopped it. Barbara Crandon got herself into a very bad situation. She had to have known the risks." Gillian ran her hands over him in a comforting gesture. "As far as everything else, you had no way of knowing where it would lead. Even the great Cal Lightman isn't omniscient." She pressed another gentle kiss against his neck. Pausing just a moment, she caught his ear lobe between her teeth and lightly scraped the tender flesh.

He tensed and she smirked, continuing as if she hadn't given him a playful nibble. "Well get through this, especially now that we're a united front."

"United front."

"Mmhm."

Cal turned in her arms, one hand lowering to her hip while the other wandered up to caress her face. His eyes perused hers, knowing she was trying to make him feel better, amazed that she would do so considering he'd pulled her down with him. Maybe he shouldn't have been amazed. This was Gillian after all.

His hands became firm as he brought her closer to him.

* * *

"Think I'm going to give Karl a call just in case. I'm sure there's not much that can be done but I'd hate for something to happen knowing that we could have prevented it." Gerald pulled his wife against him, unnerved but trying not to show it. The sheriff would know what to do.

"Isn't it illegal to impersonate a police officer?" Millie was becoming more alarmed by the moment.

"Yeah, it is." He guided her toward the back room. "Did the couple say where they were staying?"

She shook her head. "The girl was very sweet but kept the conversation…safe, I guess? I don't think the man with her said one word to me."

"Huh. Well, we know most of the year-rounders. Could probably check with Burt to see who's seasonal." Burt was the token realtor in the area.

"Excuse me."

The voice was booming but they hadn't heard the bell on the door.

Gerald's heart lurched as Millie's hand clung onto his arm.

The big man was back, smiling but the expression looked as if controlled by a puppeteer. There was nothing behind it. "I'm sure I seemed odd earlier and I apologize. Too much coffee and too little sleep. You know how it is. Anyway, I think I forgot to give you my badge number, in case you wanted to call my sergeant and check me out."

Gerald's heart started to slow and he had a moment where he thought he'd possibly overreacted.

But it was just a moment.

* * *

Theo used the old man's keys to lock the door behind him. He had had the woman write up a quick notice for him and he had paused only long enough to tape it against the inside window.

_Family emergency. Closed until further notice. _

He figured it should buy him some time while he took care of business and got the hell out of dodge. With any luck he'd be on a plane back to Europe by tonight.

* * *

Once again the first kiss was soft, even delicate as he brushed her lips with his, barely connecting. The second was a few more seconds of merging and teasing. He pulled back, watching her eyes and face before moving in again. The next one started as a slow burn but exploded quickly as passion and long buried want took over. Mouths parted and moved together as they experienced one another's heat. Hands roamed slowly at first but gained momentum as the kiss became more frenzied.

Her fingers caught in his hair, holding on, not letting go as her tongue dove and flicked in a perfect dance with his.

Cal moved the kiss down her throat, giving her quivering pulse point a tiny lick and suck. He gently grazed her skin with his teeth, pushing the collar of her top aside to kiss more of her. He gave a low growl in annoyance when he suddenly couldn't reach beyond the base of her neck.

Without a word, she stepped backward. Her eyes kept hold of his as she fluidly pulled the sweatshirt up and off.

He watched the flush move across the cream colored skin and disappear under the powder blue bra. She trembled before him but her eyes were full of dark fire as she silently beckoned him to come closer.

Stepping forward, Cal pulled her against him once again, loving the soft feel of her skin under his hands.

They kissed again, slowing down to sensual as they moved toward the couch.

* * *

Burt Channing was going to call it a day. It seemed unlikely that anyone would be house hunting at this point. The early season snow was turning into more of a storm than anticipated and all he wanted was to go home, warm up some beef stew, pop a beer and not leave his armchair for the rest of the night.

With any luck his satellite wouldn't zonk out and he'd be able to enjoy non-stop ESPN.

The sound of the door rudely yanked him out of his tentative plans.

Burt blinked slightly protruding eyes at the large man before his desk. He hid his disappointment. "Can I help you sir?" Sitting up straighter, he reached for a pen.

"Oh yeah. I think you can. At least I hope so."

"Looking for a property to buy?"

"Actually I'm looking for local properties that are only used seasonally."

Swiveling toward his computer, Burt spoke as he typed. "Don't know if I have anything available. Most of the seasonal places are exclusively for their owners. I'd have to check if any of them would be interested in renting."

"Maybe I could get a list and cruise past, you know, just to check them out. I'm looking for some solitude to work on a writing project."

"Oh yeah? Write anything I might know?" Burt stared at the other man, suddenly fascinated.

"Probably not. Just small presses. Working on something a little bigger right now." Theo leaned back, appearing relaxed, anything but.

"That's really neat." Burt continued to check his records. "Might have a few possibilities." He looked over at Theo with serious eyes. "You can't disturb them though. I mean, most come up late spring to early fall but there might still be a few stragglers."

"I understand completely." Theo smiled as he casually rested one ankle on the opposite knee.

* * *

**_Glad y'all are still liking it. :-)_**


	22. Chapter 22

The snow was starting to get annoying but Theo made his way with the list of addresses and the map the realtor had given him. So far he wasn't having a lot of luck. Most of the places were dark and locked tight. One had had lights on and smoke curling from the chimney but there was a Suburban parked in front. Through the binoculars Theo could make out an elderly couple and a couple of little kids. No sign of the Englishman or the woman.

Despite his growing impatience, he knew his persistence would pay off. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Changing direction ever so slightly, Gillian guided Cal to the soft area rug between the love seat and the wood stove. She pulled him down with her as she once again sought out his lips, connecting slowly and softly as she unbuttoned his shirt. Pushing it off his shoulders, she was mindful of his arm as she worked the fabric past the bandage. With short nails, she raked his back, smiling as the shudder ran through him but pushing herself up toward him to quell it.

Cal unfastened and gently removed anything that separated him from Gillian's smooth skin before running his fingers over her, taunting and caressing. He shifted from her lips to follow the progression of his hands, enjoying the myriad of little sounds that escaped her. Her flesh seemed to warm even more under his touch and he smiled against her as yet another gasp traveled out from deep within.

He returned to her lips, kissing them deeply, adoringly. "I love you Gill." It was just a murmur against the corner of her mouth but she held him even tighter as the firelight flickered and they merged together. She pressed her lips against the side of his face repeatedly before connecting with his mouth again.

Their movements became faster, more intense. They clung together as if they still couldn't quite get close enough. She closed her eyes as the build up spiked and washed over her, a small cry echoing in the stillness. Cal was quiet but she felt his tension as he joined her in release, before his body relaxed with the exception of a tiny bit of trembling.

"I love you." Gillian kissed him again before reaching up and pushing his hair back from his brow.

Smiling down at her, he initially said nothing but the flutter in his chest told him so much. Delicately, he pressed his lips to her cheeks, nose, chin and lips once again. She was everything to him.

* * *

There.

Theo slowed the Cherokee to a crawl as he surveyed the cabin nestled between the woods and the inlet to the lake. A couple of lights shone in the front windows and smoke funneled up and out of the small chimney. The Toyota was parked near the front porch. It looked at if the plates may have been covered but it still fit the description, such as it was. Theo didn't believe in coincidences so this had to be the place.

He continued on past the long narrow driveway before finding a turnaround to stop and contemplate things for a moment.

Lightman was armed. He knew that much, but he also knew the man had been wounded. But Theo didn't like to underestimate. Underestimating was what had botched the last two attempts to bring him in. Of course the job had shifted. It wasn't about recovering information. It was about revenge. It was about letting everyone know that Tyrone Vincenzo was not one to be fucked with even if he was heading to the penitentiary. Theo could appreciate that. Fear was a powerful tool and it was one that he personally employed.

Glancing at his watch, he took note that he had maybe another hour and a half of daylight. Waiting until nighttime would be the better way to go. According to the paperwork, the cabin's electricity ran off a propane generator in the outbuilding. He could easily tamper with it to send them into darkness and use his night vision goggles to gain the upper hand. It was always risky going on the offensive. Theo wanted to get the job done but he didn't want to get his own ass blown away in the process.

* * *

Scotty Atkins pulled up to the back of the store in his stepfather's old pickup. He was running a little late and he didn't _like_ to run late. The old couple that ran the place were good employers and he wasn't the kind of person to let people down. He was raised better than that.

Hopping out of the cab, he threw up his hood to keep the snow from catching and melting in his hair before crossing to the back door. He thunked it with the meaty part of his fist, thinking maybe Mr. Keegan might be in the stockroom to let him in. He waited for a moment. Nothing.

With a sigh, Scotty dug in his pocket for his own set of keys. He _could_ enter from the front but what was the point? His job was all about stocking. He rarely neared the cash wrap. The lock was a little stiff from the cold but he was able to make it work with a little persistence before pushing it open.

The first thing he noticed was the quiet. Odd. Usually there was a flutter of activity. For old people, the Keegans were quite active. At the very least, they'd have some music playing. It was bad music as far as Scotty was concerned. Old 70's stuff but at least it filled the void.

His hackles began to rise. He couldn't understand it but some primal part of him knew something was wrong and that he shouldn't venture any further.

On shaky legs he directly violated what his instincts were telling him. What if they needed help? They were really nice people and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't at least check.

He jumped when the back door closed behind him with a loud slam, paused for just a moment but ventured forward.

"Mr. Keegan?" Scotty stepped toward the office, after all, that's where he kept his time card. "Mrs. Keegan?"

Nothing.

He stepped closer, hesitated and then stepped inside.

His air and voice suddenly escaped him when his eyes landed on his employers.

* * *

Cal pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and tucked it around both of them. Making love was wonderful but cuddling was lovely as well. It was a way of reinstating all those feelings without the extra mess.

He smiled at the thought. Not that _he _minded the extra mess but women often didn't appreciate the wet spot.

Holding her close, they were quiet. But it was a comfortable silence. He could feel her heart beat against his and the heat of their bodies meld together. If this was his last moment on Earth, he could deal with it knowing Gillian was lying in his arms. And the fact that she loved him. _She loved him. _The knowledge of that almost took his breath away.

"What are you thinking?" She lightly ran her fingers over the tattoos on his forearm.

"I'm thinkin' about how lucky I am."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yup."

She pressed a kiss against his chest before peeking up at him. His expression was so warm and loving that she felt tears attempt to batter against the backs of her eyes. "Same here."

Wrapping his arms more tightly around her, his kissed the top of her head. "You mean everythin' to me Gill."

Her tears overcame the barricade and she sniffled, wiping at them.

"Always leakin' all over me too." He teased, his eyes tender.

"Can't help it."

The smile overtook his features. "I know. Once of the many reasons I love you."

"The fact that I'm a crybaby?" She peeked up at him.

"Absolutely." He leaned down and softly kissed her again. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

No other vehicles had passed him while he waited. It really was a desolate area at this time of the year. The realtor hadn't been joking.

Theo was a confident person. He had to be in his line of work but he was feeling even more so with this job. The darkness and the weather were on his side and he couldn't have asked for a better location.

Snow and gravel crunched under his boots as he got out of the Cherokee and walked around to the back. He just needed a few things but wasn't particularly worried about mess. There would probably be little since he planned on keeping it fast and clean. Even if circumstances did result in a mess, it didn't really matter. By the time Lightman and the woman were found, Theo would long be in Belgium dipping his fries in garlic mayo.

He shut the tailgate with a low clunk and turned to thread his way through the woods.


	23. Chapter 23

The kids' room was the best place for entry. Not only was the room's large window facing the lake but the door leading to the hallway was partially closed.

Using his glasscutter and a roll of heavy duct tape, he carefully made a hole just big enough to put his fist through and used the tape to remove the glass piece.

It didn't take much effort.

A moment later he reached through to flip the lock.

Pulling a small can of oil from his coat pocket, he generously lubed the window frame before giving it a quick test. It started to slide open effortlessly. Perfect.

Theo closed it gently before turning to head for the outbuilding.

* * *

When the lights went out, Gillian's heart froze in her chest and pure terror sliced through it. As she tried to find her voice, Cal was already moving away to pull on his jeans and shirt. "Stay low. Don't go near the windows."

She scooted to find her own clothing and like Cal, hastily dressed without getting to her feet. "Do you think the propane tank just needs to be swapped out?" Her voice came back but it was without any kind of strength, which was probably better at the moment.  
"No, I don't." When he'd been out there earlier he'd made a point to check. There'd been easily a half a tank left. He seriously doubted that there was any kind of malfunction either. By nature he was too suspicious to believe in coincidences. Cal tucked his pistol back into his waistband and grabbed the Browning from under the coffee table.

Gillian watched as he crawled toward the front window, pushed himself up and peeked out from the side. Hearing a low oath, she figured that he couldn't see a damned thing. Firelight danced from the woodstove but it barely reached more than a few feet in any given direction.

She finished dressing and as an afterthought grabbed the cell phone from the coffee table. Nothing. Not that she was surprised. It wasn't the greatest place for reception. Tossing it aside, she moved around the loveseat toward the dining room, having every intention of backing him up. It wasn't as if she were unfamiliar with her brother's rifles, she just didn't like them. Her strong survival instincts had her overlooking that little fact.

Glancing away from the window, Cal frowned until he caught the motion of her army crawling through the darkness into the other room. His first thought was that that was hot as hell and his second thought was to shelf that first thought for future reference. He had an assassin to deal with first. His insides were suddenly squeezing uncomfortably together as reality began to sink in once again.

Flipping around and slumping against the wall, Gillian pulled the Winchester into her lap. The popgun, as Cal called the .22 was in the bedroom, which was probably for the best. The Winchester had more oomph. She slid the bolt back in preparation, the only sound being the low click of the bullet going into the chamber.

The whirling snow and darkness completely blanketed the window. Cal couldn't see two feet beyond the glass, let alone far enough to allow him to pinpoint where immediate danger might be coming from. This was not good. The only thing they could do at this point was wait.

* * *

Theo slipped from the outbuilding, his eyes fastened to the cabin. He caught the erratic flicker of a fireplace or woodstove but knew that it wouldn't help them.

It would be nice if one or both of them made their way out here to check on the generator but he doubted that would happen. They'd managed to get this far by being careful. They weren't about to get sloppy now. Suspicion helped you live a little longer. Well, normally at least.

Keeping at a distance, he backtracked around the perimeter to the west side of the cabin. He stood under the window listening carefully even as the wind picked up around him. The chill should have been biting at him but he'd been careful to layer but had also chosen a thick ski hat to pull down over his ears but not obstruct his peripheral vision. He waited a few more moments before reaching up to slide the window open and heaving himself through it.

* * *

"Anything?" She kept her voice to a whisper but knew that it somehow reached him when she saw a motion in the darkness that could only be a head shake. Gillian stayed where she was, back against the wall, in the corner between the dining room and the kitchen. She wished Cal were closer to her instead of between the windows. Despite the fact that he wouldn't be visible from outside, he still seemed vulnerable. That knowledge made her stomach seesaw and she felt the need to swallow back bile.

Cal slid down to one knee and peeked outside again, first out the front, then toward the south. As far as he could tell there was no movement anywhere but that didn't mean anything. The tension was rolling through him bringing sweat to the surface of his skin and the too fast beating of his heart. Patience had never been his strong suit but this was torturous. He wanted Gillian near him but knew she was safer where she was. She was out of sight from every conceivable entrance or exit. The dinette even shielded her from the hallway to some degree. If she were going to be stuck with him in this situation, she was in the right spot at least.

* * *

Theo slipped into the pitch black of the room. His goggles were in the deep pocket of his coat and he pulled them out. They were a little awkward, more like binoculars than actual goggles but would prove to be useful nonetheless. Stepping carefully, he pushed the door the rest of the way open with a single finger and waited, listening.

Not a damned sound.

He waited a little longer and could almost smell the tension in the air. But it wasn't tension from him. His blood pressure was barely above normal. Agitation wasn't something he normally allowed. Especially in the middle of a job.

Using the goggles, he took a quick glimpse up the hall. The doorway to the other bedroom was flush with this one. He could see the front door about twenty feet from the mouth of the hallway, what appeared to be the family room to the right, dining area to the left. No sign of the Englishman or the woman. Theo would have to be very careful.

Pulling his .38 from the front of his cargo pants, he flattened his back against the wall and edged forward, keeping his footsteps soft. He didn't hurry. Haste led to mistakes and Theo didn't make mistakes. Using the goggles, he swung his eyes into the master bedroom before he passed. Clear. He continued to creep along, paused and listened once more for a full minute before moving again.

* * *

Cal sat down on his haunches, again chancing a look out the front window before silently shifting and looking out the side. If anything, the snow was even heavier, falling in flakes the size of a baby's hand.

He looked away, glancing in Gillian's direction. From his low position he couldn't see her, the darkness and furniture blocking his view. He knew she was okay but not having her in his line of sight worried him.

The rifle was heavy in his hands. He kept the barrel pointing slightly upward but ready to swing it any given direction quickly and efficiently. Cal's eyes and head were aching from strain as he struggled to see into nothingness with clear vision.

* * *

Theo had dropped into a crouch when he reached the "T" of the hallway and living areas. Using the goggles once again, he swept them across the room in a slow, even arc.

There.

Just a tiny movement between the two and three o'clock position. Unfortunately the man was obscured by furniture. Two couches were laid out in an "L" around the woodstove and his target was on the other side between the windows.

He waited for several minutes but it was soon apparent the man had no intention of changing his position. _Smart._

With an internal sigh, Theo used his leg muscles to quietly push himself back up the wall. As he gained height more of his target met his eye. Lightman was in a crouch, with a hunting rifle locked in his hands. His body language screamed with tension but his face was strangely blank.

The woman was still nowhere to be seen. She could very well be around the corner in the kitchen, lying low as well. It made sense. It wouldn't be hard to kill the Englishman from the shelter of the hallway. He could then wait Foster out if he had to.

Theo raised his pistol and leveled it at Lightman's head.


	24. Chapter 24

Gillian pressed her back against the wall, knees drawn up, fingers curled around the barrel and the trigger guard of the Winchester.

The darkness and tension felt oppressive and she could hardly draw a breath as she strained her eyes, first in Cal's general direction and then everywhere else in her limited line of sight.

Between the legs of the dinette and chairs she barely make out the mouth of the hallway and how it seemed even darker than black. Frowning, she squinted as the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her heart began to gallop painfully.

The darker than black patch appeared to move. It was just a subtle shifting of shadow to shadow but she was close to certain that it wasn't her imagination. If it were, she'd worry about her sanity later.

"Cal! Hallway!" Gillian ducked even lower as she saw the muzzle flash as two rounds hit the edge of the table above her. She leveled her own rifle in the shadow's direction and managed to squeeze off one of her own. Her movements seemed slow to her as if she were underwater and couldn't breathe. Terror for Cal threatened to overwhelm her as the sound of gunfire erupted in the stillness of the cabin. She clenched her teeth and managed a moment at a time.

* * *

At Gill's warning, Cal dropped to the side just as he felt and heard something whiz by his right ear. The bullet splintered the wood of the windowsill and broke through the glass in a hasty exit. He returned fire in the direction of the hallway, still not able to see to be accurate. He hated shooting blind. There were too many possibilities of something going terribly wrong. That's where the term "friendly fire" came from. But at the moment he didn't have much choice.

The wooden floor gave a slight tremor as a body either fell or dove behind the love seat. Cal squinted into the dark and scooted closer to the end of the couch across from the front door. He had no idea where Gillian now was and the fear was making him cold from the inside out. Nausea rolled and sweat popped out on the forehead. _Stop it. Freak out and they'd both be as good as dead._

_Think Lightman. Think_.

The assassin obviously entered through one of the back windows. Judging from the sound, the gun was not a small caliber. The shot would have been accurate if Gillian hadn't cried out, which meant the guy had some kind of night vision. This put him at a huge advantage, unless of course he or Gillian had managed to nail him. Cal found that unlikely. His life was _never_ that easy.

_Wait. What if…_

Peeking around the corner he took note of the few items on the coffee table: a few magazine, Gill's book, empty beer bottles and the utility lighter. He'd kept it within easy reach for the woodstove.

Holding his breath, Cal wriggled around the corner, sandwiching himself between the couch and table. If the guy popped up like some horror movie boogeyman, Cal was as good as dead. There would be no way he could protect himself in time. He could only hope the other guy would cautiously lie low as well. Cal reached and grabbed the lighter and as an afterthought, grabbed a bottle and magazine as well before hastily backing up to the end of the couch again.

* * *

The woman had almost tagged him. That made Theo pretty damned unhappy. She was somewhere in the dining area obscured by table and chairs, which made her difficult to get to. Even in the darkness she would be able to catch some kind of sound or movement if he approached her. Night vision wouldn't help him. She blast away before he could even come close to taking a shot.

He decided to go the other direction, figuring it would be best to concentrate on the Englishman at the moment. Theo slowly crawled toward the south wall to chance a look around the corner of the love seat.

From his new point of vision, he could see that the other man had vacated the corner between the windows. He wasn't on the other side of the now burned out woodstove so he _had _to be positioned behind the other couch.

Theo felt like he was playing Ring Around the Rosie. He was getting tired of the games. He wanted the job over and done with already. This had turned out to be a bigger pain in the ass than he'd ever expected.

* * *

Gillian still didn't feel like she was breathing. She knew that the assassin was somewhere beyond the love seat but where, she wasn't sure. Part of her wanted to just go around the other direction and meet up with Cal but in the blackness, there was no guarantee he'd know it was _her_ until is was too late. Unfortunately she was stuck and had to wait until something played out. She held onto the gun a little tighter and fought to calm her heart.

* * *

He could just barely make out Lightman's lower leg at the end of the couch by the door.

That was a possibility. If Theo blew out the knee or shattered the shinbone, the fight would go right out of him.

At that point it would be exceptionally easy to lure the woman out.

* * *

Cal pulled several inner pages from the copy of "Garden and Gun" that he'd snagged. He'd just made fun of this magazine yesterday to Gillian's unimpressed yet amused eyes. It seemed so long ago. He pushed the thought away as he attempted to funnel his mind to the task of surviving the night.

There was still a little bit of beer left over and he tipped it onto the pages before rolling them tightly and sticking them in the bottle.

He had had to put down the rifle but the pistol was still snug in the waistband of his jeans. A little bit of luck would end this thing right now. Of course it all depended on whom the luck landed with.

Cal knew he'd only have one chance and he hoped to hell the guy was where he suspected he was. Otherwise it wouldn't matter any longer. If nothing else he could only mentally implore Gillian to attempt to save herself.

* * *

Watching through the goggles, Theo could see movement and could only assume the man was getting ready for some kind of offensive attack.

It was time.

Theo leaned forward, clutching the goggles and training his gun on the other man's partially exposed leg. His finger started to squeeze when a bright flash came out of nowhere, blinding him and sending the shot wide. A roar of pain and rage barely left his lips when he felt his collarbone shatter. The sound of the other report was close on the tail of his agony but he still had no intention of giving up. The goggles had dropped to the floor and Theo started shooting wildly. If this was going to be his final job, he at least wanted to complete it.

* * *

Cal had thrown himself down hard on his left shoulder after he lit the rolled paper and tossed the bottle. The sudden yell from the other man gave him location and he quickly took advantage and pulled off a shot before all hell broke loose.

He stayed on his belly as several rounds exploded too near for comfort. The edge of the coffee table exploded and Cal felt fragments cut his cheekbone and jaw but he continued to stay low, breathing heavily and hoping that the other man didn't get lucky. Raising his own pistol once again from his prone position, he squeezed off one more careful shot.

And then there was nothing but the intense ringing in his ears and the rasping of his breath.

* * *

_**Everyone feel better now? Are you sure…? ;-)**_


	25. Chapter 25

Gillian yawned to try to clear her ears but it didn't work. She figured the deadening of her hearing would lift shortly.

The gunfire had ceased but she was still afraid to move. As she watched, light began to enhance the living room from a small fire at the edge of the loveseat. _No, no, no…_

With shaking limbs, she edged forward, pushing aside the chairs and tunneling under the table. That's when she saw the figure. He was on his side, partially obscured by the loveseat, unmoving. The man was becoming more visible as the flames found more fuel. As she watched, the sleeve of his coat started to catch but he remained still. _Dead_. Had to be.

Too many movies continued to lend her caution. She had to know for sure. Only then could she safely check on Cal.

Scooting forward on her butt, her hold on the rifle remained firm, prepared. Just in case.

She rolled to her feet, still keeping low as she approached the body.

The fire was now licking at the man's coat with more frenzy and there was still no movement.

Keeping the muzzle of the rifle on him, she stepped in as wide an arc as the room allowed. From her peripheral vision she could see Cal on the other side of the living room but didn't see any movement. Pushing the fear and horror aside, she crept up on the big man's gun arm. Fingers were still curved around the butt and she quickly lashed out with one foot and kicked it from the limp grasp. Gillian could now see that the man was, without a doubt, dead. Eyes were partially open and his mouth was curved in a sneer. He'd died in anger, a single bullet having entered above his brow and removed the back of his skull.

Gillian's throat burned as vomit rose. She looked away, swallowing repeatedly.

The fire was gaining momentum and she backed away from the heat, raising a hand to cover her mouth and nose. Some tiny part of her gibbered at her that Bobby was going to kill her, but it was a childhood voice and completely extraneous now.

Looping back the other direction, she stepped around the long couch and kneeled close to Cal.

He was on his stomach, the right side of his face covered in blood and his eyes closed.

Gillian couldn't speak as all her air and muscles turned to stone. _Oh God_.

With trembling fingers, she reached out to run her hand over his head, feeling the soft hair against her skin. She stopped near his neck, wanting to check his pulse by afraid to.

_How can this be happening_? After all these years, after all _this_ crap, how fair was it for her to lose him _now_?

She sat down on her knees, mindful of the fire, feeling the smoke begin to assault her lungs but devastation sapped her physical and mental strength.

_No._

Her forefinger and middle finger found the carotid artery in his neck at the same moment that his eyes opened, blinked and focused on her.

"Not dead luv." He swallowed, looking past her as the love seat started to burn. "Not yet at least."

"God Cal!" The words came out in a rush, tinged with relief and shock.

She helped him into a sitting position, her wide eyes glued to the side of his face. "Were you…hit?"

Perplexed, he stared at her for a moment, before reaching up to tentatively touch his cheek. He frowned when his fingers came away slick with blood, rough with grit. "Don't _think _so." Memory of the edge of the coffee table exploding came back to him. "No, not shot." He wiped away more blood fro his brow as it stung his eye.

The smoke was starting to thicken, making clear breaths much more difficult. "Come on!" Gillian grabbed his left arm to try to get him to his feet. "We need to get out of here now!" Knowledge that he was okay somehow seemed to make her feel stronger.

"Bout right." Cal leaned on her, coughing as his lungs began to complain. He felt one arm circle his waist. "Your brother's gonna be pissed off, yeah?"

She reached out and snagged her purse from the coffee table before they slowly moved toward the front door. "Payback for when he threw my stuffed 'Snoopy' in the middle of traffic."

"So…" They pushed through the front door, bracing themselves against the frigid air. "He kills your stuffed toy and I burn down his cabin? Seems a little…unbalanced."

Gillian held back an amused snort that she knew bordered on hysterical. "I'll worry about it later."

Feeling the heat at their backs , they descended the few steps from the porch to cross to the car. Cal had shaken off his daze but Gillian still insisted on driving the short distance into town, not wanting to take any chances. With any luck, maybe this would all be over. It was hard to imagine that Vincenzo would send yet another assassin after them but at the same time, who the hell knew? They needed to contact Ben again and just go from there.

Gillian carefully backed the Toyota in a semi-circle before angling the car back toward the road. They paused for a moment, looking back at the cabin, watching as flames slowly overwhelmed the structure. Given the clear perimeter around the cabin, it was unlikely the fire would spread. Most likely it would just burn itself out, helped along by the inclement weather. The snow had lessened into slightly smaller clots but it was still persistent.

She stared, her mind drifting before she felt his hand on hers.

"How're ya doin'?" Cal's voice was soft.

Her eyes left the burning building and found his, even in the darkness. "I…I'm really not sure."

He nodded, not needing to say anything more.

Cautiously, they headed toward town.

* * *

Cal sat on the edge of the gurney in the emergency room drinking tea and trying not to think. All the cuts on his face had been cleaned up and his gunshot wound had been checked and bound once again. He was fairly certain that if given the chance he'd sleep for a week but wasn't sure he would actually get that chance. Information was slow in coming but one thing he did know, courtesy of the town sheriff, was that the elderly couple at the general store were dead. That knowledge alone made him feel sick. He tried to veer his mind away but it kept coming back to one thing: it was _his_ fault they were dead. Maybe not directly but the whole thing had snowballed to such an extreme that those two innocents were caught in the crossfire.

_Shit. _He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to block things out but it had no impact. Getting drunk would be nice but that option was currently nowhere in sight.

Cal took another sip, his brow furrowing when he realized that the liquid had gone cold.

Gillian had slipped out to use the restroom and call Reynolds. Maybe the idea of protective custody was something they needed to revisit as much as he loathed to. Since his own choices seemed to be so fucked, he figured he'd let Gill make the call on it.

"Hey."

He looked up to see her approaching him. Just seeing her sent warmth and contentment rushing through him before guilt nipped at its heels. "Hi darlin'. Speak with Reynolds, yeah?"

"Yes." Her eyes flowed over him, seeing his struggle before he tucked it away. "Cal, Vincenzo is dead."

He squinted at her, not sure if he heard what he thought he heard. "How's that?"

"After he was arrested someone at county stabbed him. Apparently it was an old score, as they say." She sat next to him on the gurney, not caring that the ER nurses might frown on it. "Most of his associates have been rounded up." She paused before laying a hand on it. "Looks like it's all over." There was something else that Ben told her and she wasn't sure how Cal would take it.

"Is it?"

"That's what Ben tells me."

His eyes flitted over her face but she didn't look at him. "What else?"

"You think there's something else…?"

One hand touched her cheek. "Yeah, I do."

She met his eyes and they were as intense as they always were when he was seeking answers. "There is something else that Ben told me."

Cal watched her, not responding and waited.

Her fingers wriggled around and clasped his. "I'm sorry Cal." She kept eye contact with him. "Dennis is dead."

A heavy breath made its way out of his lungs. _And you will know me by the trail of dead…_

It was a band he was familiar with. _And you will know us by the trail of dead_. He just never thought that it would describe _him._


	26. Chapter 26

Cal was quiet on the way to the hotel. The weather was currently keeping them in New York but they'd be flying back to DC as soon as possible. Reynolds was going to have one of his men take care of Dennis' Toyota so they wouldn't have to make the long drive home. They'd simply leave it at the airport when it was time to leave.

Gillian shot several glances his way but he seemed fascinated with whatever passed outside the window. He didn't even fidget which worried her.

As tough as he pretended to be, she knew he felt things very deeply. The deaths of those people would play upon his conscience in a continual loop unless he got some help breaking the tape. It couldn't be her, of course, but she hoped he'd be open to talking to someone_, anyone_.

The closest city with any lodging of note was Lake George and they made their way slowly, carefully. The snow had slackened to flurries but the nighttime hour could still prove hazardous. Gillian was thankful that the Toyota had had snow tires installed for weather contingencies but tried not to think about the man who had leant the vehicle to them in the first place.

"One of the nurse's suggested this place. I hope it'll be okay."

"I'm sure it'll be fine luv." He still didn't look at her but she could see his drawn face in reflection.

"Are you going to call Emily and Zoë?"

Cal blinked, squinted at the clock and made a quick calculation. The last he'd heard they were in Cannes. He'd be able to call when they got to the hotel. "Yeah."

He didn't say anything more.

The village spread out before them but traffic was non-existent in the wee hours of the morning. Gillian slowed the car to a crawl before making her turn onto the resort property. It wasn't huge at slightly over 150 rooms but the location and proximity to restaurants seemed to be a good place to rest until they could make their flight. Cal hadn't cared either way.

This time Gillian checked in for them. She had several moments of indecision when the desk clerk asked whether she needed one or two beds but decided to go with the former. It was important that he didn't think she was pulling away from him. More important then ever now.

The room was comfortable with a wooden post bed and white washed paneling. Cal just looked at her when they stepped inside. "One bed?"

"Mmhm."

A smile meandered across his face but it was quickly gone. It touched him that she still wanted to be close after everything he'd done. A huge part of him thought it was a bad idea but he was too damned tired to contemplate it further. He toed off his boots, ready to just strip down to his boxers and pick a side of the king sized bed.

"I'm going to grab a shower." Gillian was stepping out of her own shoes, wrinkling her nose at the smell of smoke that still clogged her sinuses. "I won't be able to sleep reeking like an ashtray."

Cal stopped before giving himself a sniff. Not only did he smell like smoke but there was also the underlying aroma of gunpowder. _Lovely_. He could also smell something else. The cloying coppery smell of blood had followed him to the hospital and the now phantom odor still persisted. Everything congealed to elicit a gag response from him. Swallowing, he cleared his throat. "Think I need one too."

She nodded slowly, pausing just a moment before approaching him and taking his hand in hers. "Come on."

"I don't know…if that's such a good idea."

"It's fine." Facing him, her eyes flicked back and forth between his. "Please don't do this."

"Do what?" She'd come closer and his breath stopped for a moment.

"You know what." Her free hand rose and gently touched his cheek. "Don't pull away from me."

"Don't want to…"

"Then don't." Leaning closer, she softly kissed him.

Cal didn't return it at first, wanting to but paradoxicaly also wanting to push her away. He felt his body tense but her gentle persistence had him relenting and wrapping his arms around her waist. Bringing her against him more securely, his mouth pushed back against hers, initially tentative, quickly escalating to something much more. As awful a person as he could be, Gillian in the circle of his embrace made him forget all his reservations. He began to ravage her lips, exploring between them with a prodding tongue and giving a low groan as he felt her taunt him back.

She broke away when his hands started to intimately search out her skin and smiled at his startled, yet disappointed expression. "Shower first. Then I'm all yours."

_All yours._ Gillian was not deceiving him. He felt dumbstruck by that knowledge. Well, he _technically_ _knew_ but after everything that occurred, it was amazing it still held true.

Cal followed her to the bathroom and watched as she set the shower and undressed. He didn't think he could ever get tired of seeing her. It was a persistent itch that he now was allowed to scratch and that information overwhelmed him. She'd already stepped under the stream and he heard her say something about "big…Jacuzzi tub."

He joined her a few moments later.

* * *

Gillian was pressed into his side, face nestled in the crook between his shoulder and neck, one leg wrapped around his and one hand resting against his chest. She was deeply asleep and although exhausted, Cal hadn't been able to follow her into slumber as easily as he'd followed her into the shower an hour and a half earlier. His eyes felt smothered in sand but sleep still eluded him even as the room started to brighten as daylight made its appearance. Images continued to play in his mind…Barbara Crandon with a bullet in her forehead…the black-eyed man…assassins at his home, airport and finally at the cabin. Was it _finally_ over? The continuous assault made him want to doubt it but with Vincenzo's death it more than likely was. Right? He felt as if he were on a roller coaster and somehow couldn't get the hell off. Or maybe it was like the dizzying feeling afterward when you still felt like you were riding it. He lightly stroked Gillian's hair with his fingertips before kissing the top of her head. How many times could he have lost her in this little adventure? They were too numerous to catalogue. The knowledge made him physically ill.

The little voice in his head told him to get up and leave before she awakened. He was bad news and shouldn't be anywhere near her but on the other hand, wasn't that what got him into this mess to begin with? If he had had been honest with her when he first fell in love…well, not when he _first_ fell in love with her…more like after her divorce was finalized or at least shortly thereafter, there wouldn't have been a Barbara Crandon. And all this horror would never have occurred.

He stared up at the ceiling listening to the quiet and trying to drown out all the static in his head. Every few moments he'd shoot a glance toward the door to double check the lock. They were on the second floor, so the window wasn't as much of a worry. On more than one occasion he imagined the twisting of the doorknob but when he tensed and stared, he found that it was only his imagination. He'd be trembling slightly as he attempted to relax each time. Running one hand across his face he tried to wipe the anxiety away. It didn't work.

It was close to seven in the morning when his body took the initiative. Cal's eyes slid shut as fitful sleep finally pulled him under.

* * *

When he opened them again, it was dark and Gillian was gone.

Heart thumping painfully, he pushed himself up and glanced around. Heavy drapes were pulled across the window but he could see the outline of day dimly shining around it. _Not as late as he'd thought. _ On the little table by the wall to his right he saw the note that Gillian had left propped on the television remote. He could see her rounded, feminine writing and winced slightly as he reached out with his bad arm to grab it.

_Cal – took advantage of a lull in the weather to go to store. Be back soon. –Gillian_

Fear pumped through his arteries as he threw the covers back and headed to the bathroom in search of his acrid smelling clothes. _Shit, shit, shit._ What if it really _wasn't_ over? What if someone new had followed them? What if…what if they had Gillian right _now_?

A tiny noise escaped from the back of his throat and he was horrified to find it one of helplessness and panic. He'd never made that kind of sound before and wondered distractedly what was becoming of him. Was he regressing or something? Was he once again turning into that little boy who didn't want his mother to leave his sight when he was five? _Shit._

He was shaking again and tried to stop.

With fumbling fingers, he hurriedly buttoned his shirt and was reaching for the jacket the sheriff had given him when the lock turned and Gillian pushed through holding tightly to several plastic bags.

The door slammed behind her as she started to greet Cal with a smile, stopping immediately at the look on his face.

It was raw fear, panic and devastation that shocked her with their power. His primal emotions appeared for only the briefest of moments before disappearing just as quickly when he regained control.

But it was enough to scare the hell out of her.


	27. Chapter 27

When she couldn't feel his eyes heavy upon her, she knew they were flicking and darting, constantly on alert for any possible danger. And he wasn't sleeping. At all. The dark hollows and gaunt line were evidence enough for her and for anyone else who cared to look.

Gillian was worried.

They'd been home over two weeks and despite assurances from Reynolds that Vincenzo's empire had crumbled, Cal couldn't let it go. The assassin, Theodore Morgan, that had been sent after them had been the best of the best and the FBI had been after him for years. Until Cal had killed him, he'd been little more than a shadow. There were no more paid killers linked to the mob boss.

Without knocking, Gillian stepped into his office to find it empty. Emily had called her in panic to let her know that he hadn't come home last night. She'd assured the girl that he was fine but came in to the office early regardless to find his car there.

Now she crossed to his study, paused a moment before pushing the pocket door open.

The drapes were pulled and the dawn light was having a hard time making its way in. And sure enough, Cal was there. She had expected or rather, hoped, to find him asleep but instead he was slumped on his sofa staring vacantly, an empty glass in his hand.

He didn't react but she sensed he was aware of her presence.

The guilt was tearing him apart. Three innocent people had died and he shouldered it completely. He wasn't responsible for Barbara Crandon and the assassins didn't count but Dennis Whitaker and the elderly couple from the general store were hitting him hard. He wasn't really talking to her but she knew.

"Cal?"

He grunted.

"Emily called me."

Blinking, his gaze settled on her as a frown pulled his face into heavier creases. "Why?"

"You didn't come home last night." She wanted to go to him and wrap her arms around him but felt it may not be the right time. "She said she tried to get a hold of you but your phone kept going to voicemail."

Confusion ran through his features. "What _time_ is it?"

Gillian moved closer and sat on the edge of the sofa. Her voice was soft. "It's almost six Cal."

He stared at her. Six. _Six in the bloody morning? What the hell?_ He'd come in here after the last client had left to…what? Actually he'd just wanted to get away from everyone. It just hadn't occurred to him that he'd been sitting all damned night. _Shit._ "Is…Em _okay_?"

"Worried."

Cal climbed to his feet. He'd left her alone. _All night_. What if something had happened? What if someone came after him and hurt his daughter instead. Fear accelerated his heart rate and he felt a cool prickling of sweat pop up on his forehead. "Gotta go."

"Let me drive you." She eyed him as she rose off the couch but he shook his head.

"I'm okay. I'll see you in a few hours, yeah?" He stepped around her but she reached out and caught his arm.

"When did you sleep last Cal?"

"I'm fine." He tried to pull away but she wouldn't let go. Irritation and anger suddenly rose within him but as his eyes searched her face, both emotions dissipated just as quickly. She cared about him. Hell, she _loved _him for whatever good it did her and here he was shoving her back. Back to his old tricks.

He felt himself sag. "I don't know Gill." It was an honest answer. The nights were spent tensing at every sound and the days weren't much better. He knew he was going to drive himself crazy.

"Let me take you home, please. See Emily off to school and then we talk, okay?"

Cal nodded slowly and when her arms slid around him, he hugged her close, squeezing his eyes shut.

* * *

"Where the hell were you dad? I was scared to death!" Emily's brown eyes were wide with fear and anger but only initially. The expression on his face chased the anger away but left the fear.

"I'm sorry luv. I…didn't realize." He pulled her into a bear hug and rocked her for several moments before letting go. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's…okay dad. I was just worried, you know. Why didn't you answer your phone at least?"

He cringed. "Left it in the lab by mistake."

Now _that_ was unusual. The girl chose not to comment but met and held Gillian's eye for a couple of seconds. Cal didn't seem to notice as he moved into the living room and threw himself on the couch. His head tilted back but his eyes stayed on his girls. "Are you gettin' a lift Em?"

"Yeah, Sam's coming by…" She glanced at her watch. "Anytime now."

He narrowed his eyes. "Sam's a …?"

"Relax dad. Sam's a girl. Samantha."

"Oh. Just be careful luv."

"I will." She heard the begging quality and knew it was taking everything he had not to get up and take her to school himself. Emily crossed into the living room to lean down and give him a kiss on the temple. "Get some sleep dad. Love you."

"Love you too."

A horn sounded from the driveway and Emily quickly grabbed her coat and backpack, gave Gillian an appreciative smile and disappeared out the front door.

The girl left a vacuum of silence in her wake as Cal watched Gillian move toward him. She'd slipped off her shoes so she made no sound. Instead of sitting on the sofa, she sat on the coffee table to directly face him. "It's not getting better is it?"

They both knew the answer to the question but it was a place to start.

"Can't turn it off Gill." He ran a hand roughly over his face. "Rationally, I know it's all over and done with but that other part of me is just going bonkers."

"You can't keep feeling guilty." She reached out and laid a hand on his knee, purposely not saying anything about the borderline paranoia.

"Doesn't keep it from happenin' though does it?"

Gillian took a breath. "Have you considered talking to someone?"

"Talkin' to you."

She sighed and he shook his head. "I know, I know. Conflict of interest and all that." His eyes slid back and forth between hers. He knew she was right. He had to talk it out otherwise he'd just continue to become undone at the seams. What good would he be to anyone at that point? But God, the idea of opening up to some stranger made his stomach curdle.

He felt her watching him expectantly. They'd finally gone _there _and he was starting to muck it up. What if he lost her because he couldn't get his shit together? What woman wants a man who has neuroses that are eating him alive?

"Think there's anyone out there that could actually…tolerate me?" A tentative grin pulled at his mouth.

Gillian moved from the coffee table to his side. She shifted her body to face him. "I'm sure I could find…someone." Her own smile played around her lips. "But right now this is what we're going to do." Her hands cradled his. "We're going to go into your bedroom…"

His brows shot up but before his grin could turn lascivious, she continued.

"And you're going to change into pajamas and get some sleep."

The grin dropped into a pout.

"_I'm_ going to stand guard." She leaned forward and gently kissed him. "And I'm not going _anywhere_."


	28. Chapter 28

Cal disappeared into the bathroom and emerged in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt.

Gillian had pulled down the sheet and blanket and after one little innuendo laced smirk, he fell onto the bed and curled on his side. Although heavy, his eyes didn't close. They continued to watch as she folded her legs under her in the adjacent armchair.

"Sleep Cal."

He continued to watch her and she reddened under his scrutiny. "Hard to sleep when there's a gorgeous woman in my bedroom."

A long heavy sigh seeped past her lips as she tried to disguise the smile. "You're too exhausted to be up to anything anyway."

One brow rose. "Is that a challenge?"

"No." She shrugged, the smile still threatening. "Just an observation."

Cal continued to gaze at her and she shifted again. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"You know what."

"Is it the 'undressing you with my eyes part?' Or the 'there's no way I deserve you' part?" A cocky smile was pulling at his mouth but there was also an underlying sadness that made her heart hurt.

"The first part. The second part is bollocks by the way."

"Americans using British-isms sound either silly or cute. You sound _adorable_." The cocky smile pushed through as he blinked heavily. "You know a good cuddle is always conducive to sleep."

"I'll grab you one of Emily's stuffed animals." Fighting a grin, she pushed herself up out of the chair.

"Oi! Mean one you are." Cal thought about leaping up, grabbing and pulling her down with him but his body didn't want to obey. He looked up at her and crinkled his brows in his best puppy dog expression instead.

"Oh fine. No funny stuff though."

"Course not." He lifted one arm and reached out to her in invite.

Attempting to keep her face stern, she crawled across the bed and nestled next to him. "Only until you fall asleep."

"Okay."

Gillian was instantly warm and comfortable in his embrace, catching subtle whiffs of his cologne and soap. She pushed her face against the crook of his neck and sighed contentedly. The only problem with doing this was she risked the real danger of wanting to be even closer, which wasn't what he needed right now or at the very least falling asleep with him, which wasn't exactly keeping watch.

His right arm moved up and around her, his hand resting gently on her left breast.

The stern look beginning to crackle around the edges, she pushed it down as she heard a low sound of amusement from him. "Sleep."

"Okay." Cal's face was buried in her hair and she could feel his breath of her ear.

The hand edged up again, this time cupping the underside of the same breast.

She pushed it down again with an eye roll and a flush. "Go to sleep."

"Sorry luv, my fault. Just gettin' comfy."

"Uh huh."

"Donne believe me."

"Nuh uh."

"I understand." He kissed her ear, lingering ever so slightly but long enough to send goose flesh rushing down her neck and arm.

"Cal." She _had_ to be firm with him, otherwise he'd gently nudge her into non-sleeping activities. It was so damned hard to resist him when he was being sleepy sweet. Of course it was hard other times too. "Be good or I go back to the chair."

He gave a long pause before letting out a huff. "Fine."

Turning slightly, she brushed her lips against his jaw line. "Sleep."

The hand didn't move to cop a feel again and it wasn't long before she felt his body relax and his breathing even out. She waited a little bit longer before attempting to wriggle out from underneath his arm.

And he wouldn't let go. Even in sleep, he hung on tightly, almost desperately.

She waited even longer, running her hand soothingly over his shoulder and down his arm, always liking how solid he felt, enjoying trailing her fingers over his tattoos. It would be so easy just to continue to cuddle with him but she had a few calls to make.

When his deep breathing shifted to soft snores, Gillian tried again and was finally successful in moving out of his grasp. She leaned over and gently kissed his temple before leaving the bedroom.

* * *

Cal awoke feeling slightly drugged. He'd been going with so very little sleep for so long that now his body readily absorbed it and demanded more.

A slight movement to his left and the sound of cloth against cloth had him sitting up instantly, heart pounding into fight or flight. His head swung to the side but instantly relaxed as he caught sight of Gill curled in his armchair.

"It's okay. Back to sleep." Her voice was a soft murmur, barely audible in the darkened room.

Eyes heavy again, he blinked at her before slowly lying back on his pillow and drifting off once more.

* * *

"11 and a half bloody hours?!" Cal rubbed his hand across his face and stared at Gillian.

"It's not like you didn't need it."

"Yeah and in the meantime my business goes down the crapper."

"_Our_ business is just fine." She quirked as eyebrow in admonishment.

He glared a moment before sagging. "Sorry. You can probably keep it together better than me anyway. 'Course it's amazing the place in still standing considerin'."

"We have a good team."

"S'pose." The tone was grudging and she couldn't help but smile for a moment before it slipped away.

"I made an appointment for you."

"Huh?"

"You do remember what we discussed?"

Cal did but he felt himself wanting to backslide. "Amazin' what a little sleep can do."

"Sure, even if you did wake a few times in panic."

He didn't remember and just looked at her.

Gillian nodded at his questioning look. "It can only help you Cal. Please."

His eyes slid around her face, watching as she silently beseeched him. He'd pretty much given his word and he wasn't about to go back on it. "Okay, luv. Just tell me when and where."

"Monday and I have everything written down for you." The borderline fear in her face fell away and she smiled at him.

He loved her smile. Especially when it was aimed at him. "Em home?"

"She called when you were sleeping. Has study group with friends."  
"AKA, slumber party."

A low laugh popped between her lips. "Probably."

"Hmmm…Friday night, gorgeous woman still in my bedroom and she seems to refuse to leave…"

"You want me to leave?" She tilted her head, the smile now teasing.

"God, no." He reached out and caught her around the waist and pulled her down next to him. "I actually had a few ideas." His lips brushed against her throat and she found herself blinking quickly as a tiny little tremor ran through her. "Thinkin' dinner would be nice. Refuel and all that and then maybe a movie and then maybe a little bit of neckin' might be fun…"

"Oh? You have it all worked out then?" Her tone was breathless as he nibbled up the side of her neck to her ear before kissing and sucking the lobe.

"I do." His voice vibrated against her.

"How about dinner and then the necking part and go from there."

He pulled away, his eyebrows rising. "Sayin' maybe I'll get lucky tonight?"

"If you're a good boy and eat all your dinner, including your veggies."

Kissing her, he lingered for a few moments, noting the warming of her flesh. It still amazed him that she could have this kind of reaction to him with all the crap he'd put her through. He felt her arms snake up around his shoulders as she pulled him down to her, her mouth becoming more demanding.

Maybe dinner could wait just a tiny bit longer.


	29. Chapter 29

_I'm finding I'm having a hard time writing endings for these things now. They all seem to conclude the same way. Of course how else would I do it? Kill them off? Don't think so. Love them too much for that. Wait. I did do that once but the context was completely different. Anyway, bear with me as I attempt to tie this one up with a bow (maybe). I'll try to gradually do the same with the couple others I have hanging before taking a step away from the fanfic universe… for the time being at least. _

* * *

He startled when she came up behind him to wrap her arms around his chest and belly, but nothing near how he used to react. Two months ago she may have had to scrape him off the ceiling. With a good therapist, Cal was at least on his way back although it seemed slow going at times.

Gillian planted a soft kiss to the side of his neck and smiled as she felt his body relax against her. Nerves were twitching nervously inside but she did her best to hide them.

"Careful there, luv. Shouldn't start something you're not willing to finish." His voice was low, accent silken.

It was almost eight and the rest of the staff had gradually slipped out, leaving them alone to the stillness.

"How do you know I'm not?" She purred in his ear, teasing but aware that tonight wasn't the time to play this game. It was so hard though.

"_Really_?"

"No."

Letting out a little growl, he swiveled the chair quickly and yanked her down into his lap, eyes suddenly burning into hers. "Sure about that?"

Her breath cut out for a moment before resuming in shallow pants. It didn't take much for him to have her blood pressure surging.

_No, no, no_. She couldn't let him distract her. His lips found the hollow of her throat and she blinked hard and fast. _Ohhhh_. No. This is what had gotten her into this mess. Well, not exactly a mess but she was scared of his reaction. He was just finally getting back to normal and this would come at him completely from left field. Cal had a right to know. She'd already waited too long.

His arms tightened around her as his mouth sought hers. He was a millimeter away when she pushed against him. "Let's go have a late dinner. I'm starving." She was up and away while he blinked up at her in confusion, then resolve, then a tiny bit of suspicion as she looked away.

"Everythin' okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" Her words were too fast and she immediately wished she could stuff them back and try again.

He stared at her in that dissecting manner of his and she forced herself to meet his eyes again impassively.

"Right then." Cal's face went blank as he grabbed his coat and waved her before him.

She stopped at her office to grab her own coat and purse while he waited.

No words were exchanged as they headed downstairs and into the parking garage but she watched with a slight sinking of the heart as his body tensed in anticipation of something unlikely to happen. He was sleeping so much better now but circumstances still reared up to remind her how much of a burden he carried. Despite his sessions, he still blamed himself for the deaths of his friend and the elderly couple.

Only when they were safe in the locked car did he relax slightly. "Where to darlin'?"

"What do you feel like?"

"Dunno. You're the one who's dying of hunger."

"Cheeseburger with everything." She hadn't felt well earlier but a burger now sounded like heaven.

He stared at her. With the exception of her propensity for sweets, she was pretty careful about what she ate. Burgers weren't unheard of, just unusual. "Um, okay. Pub grub it is then."

* * *

"You gonna spill it?"

"What are you talking about?"

They were back at her place, relaxing on her sofa. At least _he_ was attempting to relax but she was fluttering around with more nervous energy than he'd ever witnessed in her before. It was adorable but she was also starting to make him a little dizzy.

"Something's up and you're afraid to spit it out." As the words left his mouth, all the saliva dried up and his mind shifted into fear mode. _What if something were really wrong?_

Gillian seemed to pretend not to hear him._  
_His eyes tracked her as she found an excuse to get up once again and head into the kitchen for something to drink. "Cal? Would you like something?"

"I'm fine, luv." It was a bit of a croak.

"Sure?" Her head disappeared behind the freezer door and he heard the clinking of ice in a glass.

"Yeah."

Her conversation made a sudden turn and he could hear her prattling on about how amazing their staff was and how the next quarter might herald raises for them. She then shifted to how lovely it had been for them to share the holidays together but only wished Emily had been able to help them ring in the New Year. Which led to thoughts of visiting her in California after she started college and how they could perhaps drive down the coast and take in some sun.

When Gillian swiveled to return to the living room, Cal was in her space. He hadn't made a sound and she let out a gasp as her heart leapt.

A little smile played around his mouth but his eyes were worried. "Sit with me, yeah?"

Her heart started to hammer. He knew something was up. _Duh._ _Of course he_ _knew._ There was no way she could hide all the anxiety. Even though he proclaimed her his blind spot, he'd have to be Helen Keller not to read that she was ready to jump out of her skin.

She allowed him to take her hand and lead her back to the sofa before dropping down beside her. His eyes searched her and she found that she suddenly couldn't meet them and let them fall to her lap.

"Gill?"

"Hmmm?"

"What's going on luv? Jumpy isn't your natural state of being."

Not answering, she chose to concentrate on her breathing instead even as she felt his eyes on her, even as he waited, surprisingly patient.

They were silent for several long moments before his question finally leaked out. "Are you having second thoughts? I mean, our new, um, relationship started in the middle of so much damned chaos…"

Her head jerked up and she recoiled at the sadness she found etched in his face.

"I mean, sometimes stress can-" Cal's voice was soft, hesitant.

"No, no. I don't have any regrets…about us." She reached up and lightly ran her fingers down his cheek.

His nod was slow. "Then why the nerves?"

_Okay. I promised myself that I wouldn't let any more time pass. He needs to know and let the chips fall where they may. _Gillian took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There is…something."

His face moved from sadness to concern. "You're…okay?"

_Am I okay? In some ways, I'm phenomenal but in the other ways I'm scared shitless. _ "I think so."

"You're killing me here darlin'."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to. This is just hard." _Just do it. Just blurt it out like ripping off a Band-aid._ "Cal, I'm pregnant."

He stared as her gaze moved around his face, past him, to the back wall, into the kitchen, to the front door and back to his face. It was blank and she wasn't sure what to make of it.

"I thought…that wasn't _possible_."

"It was unlikely but..." She gave him a tentative smile, wishing the awful blankness would go away.

It didn't but she could feel his body almost vibrating in agitation. She hadn't known what to expect but it hadn't been this.

Without another word, he rose to his feet, leaned over to press his lips to the top of her head and went to grab his coat.

"Cal?"

"I…uh…I need to go." His eyes left hers and shifted around the room as he fought all the emotions rising within him. "I'll call you in a bit."

He shrugged into his coat and was out the door, pausing only long enough to lock it behind him.


	30. Chapter 30

Cal slid into the driver's side of the car, put it into gear and just drove. There was no destination in mind because there was no way to escape the jumble of thoughts converging in his head.

_Pregnant._

He hadn't believed Zoë when she'd told him all those years ago and then he'd been unsure about Emily's paternity after that. He'd never trusted her. That much was apparent, at least now. As they say, hindsight is often 20/20.

But this was Gill. His rock, his best friend, now his lover. Earlier in the week, Dr. Jaffe had asked about his feelings and in a rare lapse, he'd softly told her that Gillian was everything to him.

_Pregnant_.

He'd been an emotional fuck up his whole life and that was why he was so successful academically, professionally. All that energy had been poured into other aspects of his personality. It was amazing that Emily had grown to be such a strong, good-hearted person. There were many times it was debatable as to who was actually raising whom. She was a happy accident. What were the odds that a second one would turn out the same way? How could he possibly be responsible for another life? _Of course the kid had a good shot with Gillian as a mother_

He was tired of driving so he parked near the waterfront and started walking instead. The air was frigid and he flipped up the collar of his coat in an attempt to block out the wind chill. It didn't work but he continued to walk anyway, despite the late hour and cold.

He'd been responsible for three deaths. Dennis had died horribly – all because Cal had pulled in a favor. And Jesus, that old couple had nothing to do with anything! They'd basically just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

_Pregnant._

Ten weeks ago tonight he'd pushed Gill to the breaking point and sought solace in the guise of Barbara Crandon. It had started a chain reaction that had almost gotten them both killed…but it had also led to his first bought of honesty. All that fear and tension had been catalysts in completely eradicating the stupid line. They'd finally reached the place where they should have been long ago. Maybe.

How could he even think about having another kid? He was 47 for Christ's sake! But Gillian was nine years younger. If anyone was meant to be a mother, it was her. And she didn't think she could ever be one but lo and behold, the improbable had occurred.

All that tension and fear and death and somehow they'd managed to create life out of it.

Cal stopped, his breath pluming, his face turning numb.

_They'd made a life_. And it had been out of love. No one night-stand, no drunken stupor, but because of the strength of their bond.

_Oh shit_. The word fucktard danced in his head again and he couldn't think of a more fitting description for himself. _I just walked out on her_. She'd told him she was expecting his baby and he'd just gotten up and left because his brain went to mush.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

He pivoted back the way he'd come and made a beeline for his car. Freezing rain had started to fall and by the time he got back to his vehicle, his hair was plastered to his skull and he was shivering. It was so late he figured he'd be lucky if she didn't just leave him out in the cold to freeze to death. God, he was such an ass.

* * *

Gillian had stared at the closed door for what seemed like ages, in shock and denial but that didn't keep the hot tears from running down her face. She hadn't been sure what to expect but it hadn't been that. Cal had just gotten up and left and she still couldn't process his reaction. Was that it? Did he not want anything to do with this child?

No, that couldn't be it. The news had obviously broad sided him. Who could blame him? He'd probably just wanted to clear his head. She knew he loved her but she also knew he was deeply troubled about what had happened.

But just to get up and leave like that? His face had been devoid of any emotion. It had been horribly eerie. In fact it had reminded her of abused children she'd worked with as a grad student, how they'd reach their breaking point and just shut down.

What if he slipped into self-destruct mode? There was no telling where he'd wind up if that were the case.

She stared at the door a little longer before the tears gradually slowed.

Maybe she should call his cell. No, that was probably the last thing she should do. He just needed space to digest everything, right?

What if he really didn't want to have anything to do with this baby? It was so hard to imagine considering what a good father he was to Emily. But what if? He was nearing 50. What if the prospect of raising another child was just too daunting?

Gillian stuck out her lower jaw as the tears dried. The baby was hers. It was a tiny miracle that had been conceived in love and even if she had to raise it alone, well, so be it.

Finally pulling her eyes away from the door, she curled on her side and flicked on the TV. HGTV. One of those interior design shows. She left it on for noise and company.

What if he'd gone out and gotten himself hurt? It was definitely within the realm of possibility. It _was_ Cal after all.

But he was a big boy. If he wanted to behave like an ass there wasn't much she could do about it. Maybe some day he'd mature out of it.

_Right._

Gillian snorted but it came out as a half sob. _No, not going to do that any more tonight._ She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand and continued to stare at the TV.

Sometime after midnight she thought about getting up and heading to bed but drifted off on the couch instead.

* * *

The streets were slick and he couldn't drive as fast as he would have liked. At least not without the very real possibility of skidding out and turning himself into a blood smear. Despite his agitation, he took his time, his brain shifting into an entirely different gear now that he'd managed to screw his head on straight. _Gillian was pregnant with his baby. Holy shit. _

He wondered what it would be. A boy would be nice but a beautiful girl like her mum and sister would be good too. Didn't matter. Gill and the baby just needed to stay healthy.

His heart started to thrum hard when he turned onto her street.

Now all he needed to do was grovel and hope she wouldn't just tell him to get lost.

* * *

The knocking jerked her out of a restless doze. The dreams had been rapid-fire one after another but the last one was what she took into wakefulness. In it, she'd been reaching for Cal but somehow he stayed just out of her reach. He'd look at her sympathetically, would give a little head-shake but not say a word. Finally, he turned his back on her and disappeared into a white haze.

She let out a groan. Sometimes dreams were a lot less subtle than other times.

The knock came again, initially tentative, now with more force.

Gillian squinted at the clock. Just a bit past one.

There were two possibilities. Cal or the police showing up to let her know that something devastating had happened to him. A chill ran through her and the shudder bordered on violent.

On numb legs, she crossed to the door and looked through the peephole.

There was instant relief followed by burning anger. She should let him freeze but knew she wouldn't.

With a silent sigh and tension beginning to harden her muscles, she pulled the door open and just gazed at him.

Misery paled his features and darkened the lines around his eyes. His hair was wet and she could see the vapor of his breath floating before him. It was damned cold.

"Sorry." The word was barely there but it could have been cannon fire against the silence.

She said nothing but moved aside so he could enter. The chill radiating from him shocked her. What the hell had he been doing all this time? It couldn't be more than a couple degrees above freezing.

Softly shutting the door behind him, she turned just as he dropped to his knees in front of her. His arms snaked around her waist and she felt his cold cheek press gently against her lower abdomen. "I'm so sorry Gill."

The words were shaking but then again, so was he. She could feel his tremors run through him and into her. "Dunno why I left. Just so…much…inside."

Startled, her fingers found the top of his head and sifted through the short wet locks as the lump swelled in her throat. She didn't dare say a word.

"Started thinking about what a fuck up I am…how I pull everyone down with me. How I haven't been a very good father to Em and now…" He nuzzled against her for a moment before looking up and catching her eyes. They were filling but not overflowing. He was the closest to crying that she'd ever seen.

All she could do was continue to stroke her nails against his scalp. Words still held a danger of a rush of fluid.

"I'd understand if you were having second thoughts…about _us. _It's hard enough taking care of one kid…let alone two, yeah? No matter what, I'll support you…and our baby." With that, he turned and pressed his lips against her belly and hugged her again.

"You need to know that you really are everythin' to me. You, Em, the little one. Only people that give my life any kind of meanin'."

At that moment, her tears broke free. He blurred in a sea of emotion but she fought to find her voice. Wasn't successful so she pulled at the shoulder of his coat instead.

Taking the hint, he rose to his feet, feeling her warm hands against his chilled face. They stood face to face, looking at one another, completely open. Very slowly, she pulled him into her arms and held him to her, feeling him relax in relief.

When she finally did find her voice, he smiled at her words. They were _so_ Gillian. "You need to get out of these wet clothes. You're going to catch pneumonia."

She turned, wiping her eyes and disappeared down the hallway. A moment later he heard the rush of the shower.

Hot water would feel lovely right now. He was still shaking and his teeth were chattering. Another bone-headed moment: walking the waterfront in freezing rain.

* * *

Cal leaned against the shower wall, the tremors gradually disappearing in the warm spray.

She'd said very little. Although she'd forgiven him, he suspected he had more groveling to do before things would be right again. He needed her to talk to him. Now that he was getting used to the idea, there were so many questions he had. Knowing how far along she was and the due date would be nice. Did she just find out? Or did she sit on it for a little bit? She looked the same to him but at most she was only…10 weeks along, possibly less. She wouldn't be showing yet. Give it another month or two though…

Holy shit.

_Pregnant._

This time the word didn't spear his head with fear. He actually felt a little tingle of excitement instead.

When was the last time Emily called him "Daddy?" He honestly couldn't remember. Certainly not since she'd crossed into preteen and then teen years.

A baby. _His and Gillian's._

A dopey smiled crossed his face as all thoughts of past horror dissipated.

He stood under the warm water a little longer, hoping Gillian might join him, knowing that she wouldn't. He didn't blame her in the least.

With a sigh, he shut off the spray, quickly toweled off and pulled on the sweats and t-shirt she'd laid out for him. The chill was finally gone although he couldn't help but wonder if he'd land a cold out of his idiocy.

_Whatever._

All the lights were out in the front rooms and hallway. The only lamp burning came from her bedroom and he approached cautiously.

The sheets and blankets were pulled away from the right side in invitation but she was huddled on the other side, facing away.

Listening intently, he heard nothing. Usually the soft sound of her breathing reached him when she was asleep but she seemed to be holding them in. As he waited, a quiet sob scratched the stillness.

Not knowing if it was the right thing to do or not, he slid in next to her, pulled the blankets over him and molded himself to her frame. Dropping a kiss behind her right ear, he draped one arm around her waist.

"I love you Gill and always will. Even if you decide to kick my dumb arse out, that will never change."

She sobbed again and he closed his eyes but opened them quickly when she turned to face him.

Her face was red and so were her eyes. He felt a familiar flash of shame.

"Do you want me to go?"

Gill shook her head, his unsure, pained expression pressing against her heart. "Just a little emotional these days. Can't help myself." She smiled and it was gorgeous.

He stared, wondering if she were actually messing with him a little. "So, you still…forgive me?"

"You gave me an amazing apology."

"Really?"

"Almost seemed rehearsed."

He looked offended. "Completely ad-libbed darlin'."

Curling into him, she smiled again and he felt her breath against his neck. Maybe it really was going to be okay. "Gill?"

"Hmmm?"

"Um…how far…?"

"Along am I?"

She sounded sleepy and cute and he couldn't help himself as he kissed her nose.

"Yeah."

"Almost ten weeks."

Cal digested that quietly. Ten weeks. It had happened at the cabin. The very first time they'd made love they'd made a miracle.

When he was too quiet for too long, she tilted her face up to his only to find him staring down at her, his face soft and reverent. His voice was full of awe. "It really is amazing."

Gillian nodded, her eyes shiny.

"What do you think about Cal Jr.?"

She cocked an eyebrow, obviously not convinced. "What if it's a girl?"

"Caldonia."

"Ew." She stuck one finger in his armpit and gave it a wriggle.

"Oi!" He caught the offending digit and cradled it and the rest of her hand against his chest. "Guess we have time to come to some kind of compromise."

"Mmhm. Plenty of time." Sleepy Gillian was back and her eyes dipped closed.

"Be here before you know it."

One eye opened and regarded him. "28 to 32 more weeks."

"Exactly. Soon they'll be loads of…interruptions."

The corner of her mouth twitched. "Your point?"

"No point. Just sayin'…for reference you know. Baby changes a lot of things."

"I'm sure." She pushed herself up and gave him a gentle kiss, amused as a tiny bit of hope ran across his face. With a smirk, she reached over and switching off the lamp before snuggling back up against him. She sighed when his strong arms wrapped around her once again. "Goodnight Cal."

"Night luv." There could have been disappointment in his voice but her smirk blossomed into a broad smile when she recognized what was there in its place. He was happy.

* * *

_**A/N: And that's all folks! Okay, okay – I might be convinced to do an epilogue if y'all really want me to…**_


	31. Chapter 31

_**And here, dear readers, is a snippet of an epilogue. I hope you enjoy. Thank you for all your lovely reviews and comments - the response was…unexpected but so appreciated!**_

* * *

The youngster scrutinized the sea of faces carefully. Mama said not to get any hopes up because there were some things that Daddy couldn't control. But that wasn't true. Daddy could do _anything_. One time he made a mean kid stop being mean by just looking at him. One time he mysteriously healed two scrapes that occurred after a bike accident. He saved her mother when she fell off the step stool in the kitchen that time. She had even watched while Daddy gave Mama mouth-to-mouth resuscitation once (it was after bedtime and the child hadn't been able to sleep and she saw them on the couch and Mama must have stopped breathing or something). He could _even_ control the weather –he was actually able to make an extra scary storm with loud thunder and lightning go away. Not just _any_ parent could do that. So a simple matter of getting home in time from that work conference thing in Vancouver shouldn't be a problem.

Keen blue eyes picked out Mama in the crowd and the youngster waved enthusiastically. Mama waved back with a big smile. She looked so pretty. She always did. But the seat next to her was empty and the child felt a sinking disappointment. He was probably just late. _That_ was something that _did_ happen from time to time. Besides, there were still some parents coming in, so it couldn't be _that_ late.

The little girl looked toward her teacher from her position in the middle of the first row. She liked her teacher a lot. Mrs. Fickett was the nicest lady in the world…except for that one time when she made her go into time-out for five minutes because that creep Isabella had asked if Daddy was her Grandpa and she'd gotten mad and told her to "sod off." She didn't really know what that meant but Daddy used it a lot so it must have been a good one. But Isabella didn't know what it meant either and neither did Mrs. Fickett. She'd just said the sentiment didn't sound very nice. Eliza forgave her because Eliza was just like Mama, at least that's what Daddy said all the time.

Lights in the multi-purpose room were starting to dim and the little girl was definitely alarmed. What if he didn't make it back in time to see her? Mama would be recording and he'd be able to see it later but it wouldn't be the same!

She squinted into the darkness, only distantly aware of her teacher speaking through the microphone to the audience. Phrases like "delighted to have you all here tonight" and "the children worked so hard" floated around her but she wished they didn't. Mrs. Fickett needed to wait just a little longer!

All the kindergarteners on stage were instructed to rise as Miss Sweeney started to play the piano. The little girl reluctantly followed suit. Her best friend Jamie gave her a sideways look and reached for her hand.

Tears were beginning to sting her eyes and Eliza bit her lip, willing them not to fall. She was a big girl. She was almost five and a half and five and a half-year-olds didn't behave like crybabies.

Seventeen tiny voices began to sing "The Twelve Days of Christmas" under twinkling lights hanging from above and Eliza didn't want to. Since Mama was in the second row, she knew that she could see her face clearly, see how sad she was because that's what Mama and Daddy did. They saw _everything_. Mama gave her a reassuring smile and that made her feel a tiny bit better. But just a tiny bit.

They were now on the third day of Christmas but Eliza barely sang along. She currently didn't care about French Hens and Turtle Doves or the bloody Partridge. It could go _sod_ off.

The sound of a door opening and closing echoed in the big room and the little girl swept her eyes back and forth as a tiny bit of hope flickered through her. It was hard to see all the way to the back but a moment later, a figure with a familiar swagger strode up the middle aisle. He gave her his big crooked grin and a little wave before sitting next to Mama and giving her a quick kiss. Mama touched his face, smiled, and initiated another sweet kiss. Eliza loved seeing them like that.

The children had started on the Fourth Day of Christmas and the little girl now beamed as she sang. Her big moment was almost here and as she watched her parents watch her, she felt so happy that she just might pop.

"_On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me_…" All her classmates sang enthusiastically, if not in tune.

_And here goes nothing_... Eliza held her hand up, took a deep breath and wriggled her fingers with all five sparkly rings. "…_FIIIVVVE…GOLDENNN…RINNNGS…!"_

* * *

After the assembly, all the teachers led their respective classes back into the multi-purpose room for parental pick up.

Eliza watched carefully and as soon as she saw Daddy and Mama coming forward, she darted out of line. She knew that it wasn't the right thing to do and that she might get in trouble for it but she didn't care.

"DADDY!" She ran straight at him and he immediately caught her and swooped her up into his strong arms. His short beard tickled her as he kissed her cheek.

"How's my girl?" Cal held his youngest daughter tightly as she happily filled him in on all the events that had occurred in her life over the last 72 hours. A kindergartner's life was just a hubbub of activity and it made his head spin. But that was okay. He was just happy to be home. The little one had been rehearsing for weeks, to the point of almost making his ears bleed, and he had been so worried that he'd wind of disappointing her. It had been touch and go with the weather there for a bit but it had all worked out.

He set her back down gently on her sparkly red Mary Jane's and reached into the pocket of his coat. Gillian's eyes were on his with that gentle light of hers and he gave her a quick wink as he addressed their daughter. "You know darlin', it's customary for a lady to receive a gift after a stage performance."

The little girl's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yup." Cal pulled three pink roses wrapped in snowflake embossed plastic from his inner pocket, hoping they weren't completely squished. The thorns had been snipped away as a precaution, the florist smiling in amusement as she did it. A tiny stuffed teddy bear clutched the stalks possessively. "The leadin' lady always receives flowers. It's kinda tradition, say Mum?"

"Absolutely." Relaxed and happy, Gillian's eyes flicked from her husband to her daughter. She absently reached out and smoothed dark blond hair back from Eliza's face and tucked it behind one ear.

The little girl squealed and clutched the flowers to her chest, unmindful of the one or two petals that fell. An exuberant "thank you" slipped out somewhere between more squeaks and squeals.

"Well, donne know 'bout anyone else, but I'm starvin'. Who's up for ditchin' this place and gettin' some food?"

"ME!"

He cocked his head as he stared down at his daughter. "I was referring to the rest of your mates."

"DADDY!" She huffed at him and he saw her mother as he always did.

"Fine then. Just the three of us tonight and big sis comes in tomorrow."

The youngster squealed again, her smile huge.

Cal reached out and Eliza immediately sank her tiny hand into his. His other arm slid around Gillian's waist and he brought her closer, his lips against her ear. "See, I made it. After all, I _can_ control the weather you know."


End file.
